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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157246">Healing Factor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indelen/pseuds/Indelen'>Indelen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Consent, Doctor/Patient, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, Injury Recovery, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Major Character Injury, Minor Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Thor (Marvel), Odin (Marvel)'s Bad Parenting, Protective Thor (Marvel), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Snark, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:15:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>121,041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indelen/pseuds/Indelen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki was lucky to survive the devastating car crash that very nearly claimed his life. Now, resting and recuperating in his brother's home he has every care and amenity available to help his recovery. A professional physical therapist was hired by Thor Odinson to help get his brother back on his feet. But for the young woman the assignment is not nearly as straight forward as it first may seem. The accident is merely the final link in a chain of traumatic experiences that inflicted wounds far worse than any number of broken bones. And it's not as if Loki was a friendly man to begin with. Shrewd, caustic, mischievous and introverted, incapable of straightforward communication, lacking in patience and not overburdened with an excess of empathy Loki is the worst possible kind of patient to have.<br/>Unless, of course, you’re the type to enjoy the challenge…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brunnhilde | Valkyrie &amp; Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>425</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chrome and glass.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Profound apologies to anyone working in nursing/PT fields.<br/>I did some research but plenty of stuff here, particularly the time frames, are fudged to make the plot work.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        It is not my habit to make semi-flirtatious banter with a man about to interview me for a job as this is, of course, completely unprofessional.</p><p>        And it is definitely not my habit to make semi-flirtatious banter with a man whom I knew to be married, no matter how obviously in jest the comments were meant to be. After all, even the most innocuous joke can be misconstrued.</p><p>        And yet, when the front door of a modern upstate New York home opened and nothing short of a Norse god made flesh and mortal stood before me, all that popped out of my mouth was:</p><p>        “Oh, my goodness gracious! Are you the one that needs round the clock care?”</p><p>        Look.</p><p>        If you were there.</p><p>        And you saw him.</p><p>        You would have done the same.</p><p>        Thor Odinson was tall, fair, with cornflower blue eyes and perfect skin. His shoulders were broad and well muscled, his posture was comfortable and assured, his expression was bright and cheery. On hearing my words, he threw his head back and laughed. Even his laughter was energy itself; pure and friendly and unpretentious. Despite myself, I felt stuck down by his charm. It’s not even that he was remarkably handsome, though of course he was, it was that he projected immense health, joy and vitality.</p><p>        I’m a physical therapist specializing in severe injury rehabilitation, so I’ve spent a good chunk of my life looking after very sick or injured people. Often in bleak conditions. I’ve met people would never walk again, talk again, who could not pick up a spoon to feed themselves. It’s a hard job, physically demanding and mentally exhausting but ultimately gratifying. It is extremely rewarding to see a patient pick up that spoon after all. But seeing sick people, day in and day out, it starts to get to you a bit and here before me was this radiant picture of healthy, well-maintained masculinity.</p><p>        My mouth got away from me, but to my great relief Thor took the joke as it was intended. Still chuckling, he stepped aside to let me through into the wide-open front hall of the house and rumbled:</p><p>        “Miss St. Clair I take it? Alas, I am not the one who requires your attention. Please come this way.”</p><p>        “Shame, but I’ll adjust.” I said as I fell in step with him.</p><p>        “I hope it was not too difficult getting there, I know this place is a out of the way.”</p><p>        “Oh no, no, the drive was very pleasant.”</p><p>        We walked through a spacious open concept living room, past the enormous kitchen, towards the back of the house where, through a frosted-glass door, was a sleek modern home office. While I was making my way through the house and taking in the surroundings I wondered about this job. When the placement company contacted me a few days ago with a possible position the details were very sparse. All I could gather was that the client was young, difficult, and recovering from serious injuries. There was some mention of a car accident. On its own that could mean anything from “Damaged spine – will never walk again” to “Need someone to keep an eye on a slight concussion and whiplash for a few days”. Young, previously healthy people can get pretty damn injured, but they can also recover remarkably well provided they have the right mindset.</p><p>        And so, I rented a hatchback and drove out to a very fancy part of upstate New York until the GPS instructed me to stop before an ultra modern home built seemingly from nothing but chrome, glass and light wooden beams stacked at perfect ninety-degree angles. Not my personal favorite architectural style, but from a professional standpoint I was glad to see something so modern as it typically meant that the place had every kind of amenity. Getting thought the security gate and getting to the door, I’m not sure what I expected to see on the other side of it. Perhaps a maid or a weary nurse. I didn’t expect the homeowner to come to the door himself, barefoot and dressed casually in just a jeans and t-shirt. I knew his name and I Googled him some after the interview was set up.</p><p>        Thor Odinson was the middle child of a very wealthy, recently deceased, British entrepreneur who made his money by first inventing some kind of computer whats-it and then selling it to Microsoft, or maybe Apple, or maybe both sometime in the 90s. In other words, he invented something that billionaires needed and so became a millionaire himself. Afterwards he invested in all sorts of things; electronics, IT, land development and maybe weapons-grade plutonium for all I knew, and became very wealthy. This company merged with a few other tech companies over the years and that kept him well afloat through the booms and busts of the last two decades. Sometime in mid 2000s he lost his beloved wife of many years and never quite recovered from her passing. His health declined in the last few years of his life and as it did his two sons gradually took over the managing of company.</p><p>        Although he was an Englishman, for a few years now Thor was living in America, working on setting up a US branch of the business. He had recently married Val North, a three-time Olympic Judo champion who retired from sports early and started the successful Valkyrie chain of gyms which I happened to be a member of. They were women-only and had a very strong focus on self-defense. I’ve even met the recently wedded Mrs. Odinson when she came to teach a class in my local branch a few moths ago, though we never spoke.</p><p>        Now I was looking at a large, newly framed photo of the married couple that was casually leaning on the modern steel-and-brushed-glass office desk. On it, Thor looked equally handsome in an immaculate three-piece grey suit and blue tie. Val North wore a simple and sleek cream colored gown that made her look like a 30s film star. Her dark hair was arranged in a halo of pretty curls pinned with white flowers. On either side of the couple was best man and maid of honor. The girl was a mere teenager, possibly a sister or a cousin. The best man I recognized from other publicity photographs.</p><p>        Loki was Thor’s younger brother but looks-wise they were as different as night and day. Pale where the other was tanned, dark haired where the other was blond, reticent and reserved where the other was a ball of joyful energy. He was of a height with his brother but had slighter built. This was a casual photograph. Everyone was laughing, but Loki was only smiling somewhat ironically into the camera, his light eyes remote and mischievously amused. Objectively speaking it was impossible for me to say which one was more handsome, they were two sides of one very good-looking coin.</p><p>        As Thor sat down behind his desk and he noticed me looking at the photo and said:</p><p>        “Ah, this was last year in France. We finally just got everything framed.”</p><p>        “Beautiful,” I said sincerely.</p><p>        Thor looked at me thoughtfully for a minute as he tapped his finger on the glass surface of the desk.</p><p>        “Of course, you came highly recommended." He said finally, "I expected nothing different from someone associated with Reliable Networks Inc. Your resume is impressive and I called some of your previous clients, all gave you glowing reviews. We can get to the usual questions later but …” he frowned at something for a second and then said with a sigh, “this is a private matter and one that demands discretion.”</p><p>        “I understand,” I replied, trying to look like the last person of earth who would post his personal details on the internet or blab about them on a crowded bus.</p><p>        “If I ask it of you, would you be willing to sign a non disclosure agreement?”</p><p>        That caught me by surprise, no client has ever asked me to sign an NDA, but I’ve also never worked for people quite on this level of money and fame before.</p><p>        “I would have to get my lawyer to look at it first” I said cautiously.</p><p>        “Of course, of course,” Thor nodded approvingly. “Please understand, this is a difficult time for us and I want to do what is best for my family. I purposefully gave very little information regarding this placement to the company that reached out to you.”</p><p>        He heaved a big sigh again and suddenly looked about ten years older.</p><p>        “The matter is relatively simple on the surface. My brother lived and worked in London until three months ago. End of March of this year Loki was driving home after a very late night in the office. It was past midnight, a man driving the other way on a high speed road fell asleep at the wheel and veered into oncoming traffic. His van hit my brother’s Maserati head on and the sports car crumbled, spun around several times and fell into a ditch.”</p><p>        His voice was strained but level. I took in the medical facts with one part of my brain, but with the other noted that despite having to, no doubt, tell this story a number of times, Thor was still distressed to repeat it. He lost his father very recently and now almost lost his brother. For all his happy demeanor he was very worried, he just knew how to deal with it well.</p><p>        “Sports cars are not made with safety in mind,” Thor continued. “It took paramedics some time to … extract my brother from the wreckage. He very nearly died. He was flown to London, received a number of urgent surgeries and procedures which I do not remember the names of but I have a file with all the pertinent medical information should you like to read it.”</p><p>        “I would,” I said. “It’s good to know from a therapy standpoint, but you don’t have to get into it now. I take it he pulled through?”</p><p>        A brief flash of gratitude flickered across Thor’s face before he went on:</p><p>        “Yes. His legs were badly hurt and ribs and other things, organs, he was sedated for a long time I … we, we did not know what his state would be like when he woke up. As soon as it became possible, we transferred him to a private hospital in America.”</p><p>        “I take it this is not public knowledge?”</p><p>        “No, our company’s board of directors has been told of the true extend of Loki’s injuries. Aside from them only myself and my wife know. I am, of course, excluding the medical personnel involved. The reason for the secrecy is that with the recent death of my father the value of company stocks fluctuated. British business is not doing well at the moment due to outside political factors that we have no power over, my brother is the face of the British branch of the company, if the severity of his injuries becomes known the company stocks will suffer further. Additionally, there is every chance that our family will come under the attention of the press. I would very much like to avoid all of that.”</p><p>        “Thus, the NDA.” I nodded, “I understand completely, please go on. He was transferred to the US sometime in April?”</p><p>        “Yes, and discharged into our care two months later, until such time that he is able to function independently we decided to set him up here, better air, less people, less press. We have a nurse on staff 24 hours a day and a doctor that comes to check on him once a week.”</p><p>        “And you want to start on the rehab process?”</p><p>        “Yes.”</p><p>        This time the “Yes” was uncertain, I looked at Thor inquisitively expecting more, the look of concern deepened, his handsome features suddenly became grim. There was a considerable pause, then he looked away and said quietly:</p><p>        “He’s not getting better.”</p><p>        My eyebrows shot up, “could you please clarify?”</p><p>        “The breaks and injuries and fractures are healing, but slower than the doctors anticipated and he is not making any rehabilitation process.”</p><p>        <em>Well now that’s definitely interesting.</em></p><p>        This is a family with near limitless finances available to them. I had no doubt that Thor arranged for the very best doctors, nurses, hospitals, drugs and yet a perfectly able bodied, young, previously healthy and virile man in his early 30s wasn’t recovering? Of course, there must be a reason. Two possibilities sprang up in my mind right away, but it was far too early to tell if either is true.</p><p>        “Is he eating solid food?” I asked.</p><p>        “Yes. He received a severe concussion, but his face and neck were not excessively damaged. He can eat almost anything.”</p><p>        “Does he? How is his appetite?”</p><p>        “It varies, as does his general mood. The nurse prepares him trays. Sometimes he eats relatively well, other days he’s not hungry at all.”</p><p>        “Does he do anything? Read? Watch television?”</p><p>        “Because of this concussion he is now highly susceptible to migraines and the doctors entirely forbid screen time and anything else that may cause eye strain. He mostly sleeps, on some days he won’t even let us open the blinds to let the sun in. He says it hurts his eyes.”</p><p>        I paused a moment to think.</p><p>
  <em>        Damn, this could have been such a great placement, but if it’s what I think it is…</em>
</p><p>        “May I see him? Maybe talk with the nurse, if she's available?”</p><p>        Thor seemed surprised by the request.</p><p>        “It is likely that he is still asleep, he usually never wakes before noon.”</p><p>        “That’s fine, even better, really. I just want to see the set-up of his room and the extent of his injuries. I want to know what I am agreeing to.”</p><p>        After thinking it over for a moment Thor got to his feet and without saying another word motioned me to follow him. We walked down some more spacious, well-lit corridors into a separate wing of the house. It seems that the building was really two living spaces joined together, with a sort of court yard between them.</p><p>        “This house was built when my father was still alive.” Explained Thor was we walked along, “when his health declined, he moved in with us, but we still gave him a lot of independence until the very end. He lived in this slightly separate wing so it was already set up with a lot of medical concerns in mind, converting it to suit Loki’s condition was not all that difficult.”</p><p>        I nodded. It was a smart and practical decision. The house was wide and airy, with tall ceilings, very few stairs, no small nooks, crannies or corners. You could get a gurney or a wheelchair in here no problem.</p><p>        We came through a set of wide-open double doors into a big but still cozy living room decorated in shades of natural brown and accented with gold. There was a lot of expensive, natural wood furniture including one of those giant dining room tables where the table top is made out of a single solid chunk of some old and gnarled oak. One of those alone cost at least a few grand. Above a glimmering gas fireplace was an honest-to-god oil portrait of a handsome woman in her late 40s or early 50s. She had dark auburn hair streaked with grey and very perceptive hazel eyes, her face was long and slightly angular and she had the kind of perfect eyebrows I would kill for. One of them was slightly raised, as if skeptical of this whole portrait business and whether it is all that necessary.</p><p>        “Our mother,” said Thor in passing. “We all were terribly fond of her.”</p><p>        He gave me a brief tour of the place. The living room immediately flowed into a state-of-the-art kitchen with red granite countertops and steel appliances. From there, was a wide hall that was more like a den with chairs, bookshelves and four doors.</p><p>        “One is the separate outside entrance,” explained Thor. “That one is to the storage and pantry room. That double door is to the main bedroom, next to it is the second bedroom, currently occupied by the nurse.”</p><p>        He pulled open the doors and we entered into the bedroom, roughly the size of a small Manhattan studio apartment. All the furniture in the room came from a matched set made of light wood with silver accents except for the bed, which was a full hospital bed. The room was plunged in semi-darkness, the blinds next to the bed were drawn. I heard the familiar background whir of the hospital equipment and came closer to have a better look at the figure reclined on the immaculate hospital sheets.</p><p>        That was the first time I came face-to-face with Loki.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact:<br/>15 years of writing fan fiction,<br/>1st time posting it for anyone to see. </p><p>Thank-you for reading. Let me know what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Green and Blue.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        He wasn’t asleep.</p><p>        He was giving a very good performance of it though. His breath was slow and slight, his eyelids were relaxed, the fingers of his left hand even moved subtly to imitate muscle twitches one gets while asleep. A good detail. He was an excellent actor. I really couldn’t identify exactly how I knew he was not asleep, but I’ve seen a lot of patients try to dodge morning exercises so my eye was quite trained to sense this sort of thing.</p><p>        I didn’t say anything, instead I took in other details.</p><p>        He was very pale and his ink-black hair contrasted sharply with the crisp white of the hospital sheets. The weight loss was significant, it highlighted his very perfect facial features, luckily unmarred by the crash. He had a straight nose, sharp cheekbones, an elegant jawline and well framed eyes. His collarbone was evidently fractured and bound tightly as a result. There was a cast on his left arm. One of his legs was in a brace, the other also in a cast. The worst injuries were all on the right side of his body. I could see where the impact of the accident was. There were scratches and bruising down one side of his face and neck, there was likely much more on his upper torso.</p><p>        Thor came closer and silently stood next to me. As he looked at his brother genuine concern etched into his face.</p><p>        “He lost a lot of weight,” he said quietly. “He was always lean, but not like this, it just feels like he’s wasting away.”</p><p>        “All this is serious,” I said gently. “But nothing here is irreversible.”</p><p>        Thor nodded as if in agreement and broke out from his reverie, “I will fetch the nurse, she’s likely in her room.”</p><p>        That suited me fine. When the door closed behind me I came closer to the bed and picked up Loki’s patient chart.</p><p>        “It’s a bit cold-hearted to let your brother worry about you so,” I said conversationally while flipping through the pages. “Although, I have to admit, you are an excellent actor.”</p><p>        Silence.</p><p>        After reading the notes some more, I frowned - it seems my first assumption was wrong.</p><p>        “You know,” I continued, “I first thought you’re doing this for the drugs. Most people do, but you’re not nearly on as many painkillers as I thought you’d be. Broken collarbone and you’re still on the low end? Fucking hell, how good is your pain threshold?”</p><p>        More silence.</p><p>        It was not unreasonable to assume an opioid addiction. Moody, sleeps a lot, varying appetite, slow progress? All hallmark signs of someone getting addicted to painkillers. This is how most people start, an injury requires a bit of this or that, it feels great, you get a bit more, get hooked and before you know it you’re punching walls to get the doctor to write you another prescription. But Loki was barely requesting morphine, so his underlying issue must be something else.</p><p>        “So if you’re not a junkie then … what? Bet you anything the nurse is a bore, but how bad would it have to be for you to lie here for days and days and play possum?”</p><p>        I started rummaging around. Nurses often keep timesinks on the job and what you use to kill time says a lot about you. I felt a canvas bag under the bed and pulled. Crocheting. Fair enough, it’s an old standby. A thin flat book fell out of the bag: CROCHETING SWEATERS FOR CATS. There were two cats on the cover.</p><p>        Wearing little vests.</p><p>        “Ooooh. Oh dear. Well never mind then, I understand completely.” I flipped through the book a little then shoved it back into the bag and stooped to put the whole bundle back. When I straightened up quickly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small hint of a smirk smooth itself back to neutrality. It was on Loki’s face for only a fraction of a second.</p><p><em>        Aha</em>…</p><p>        I knew then, how to go about it. And it was my favorite way.</p><p>        Wit.</p><p>
  <em>        He’s bored.  </em>
</p><p>        “You must have a smart phone somewhere on you. You must.” I pressed on, “I’m dying to know where you’re hiding it. You’re still in the sponge bath period of recovery and that somewhat limits your list of available storage places.”</p><p>        The bed was located a few feet from the wall, I walked around and stood in the space between it and the window. Long, dangling, narrow blinds covering the whole of its large square. Each one was made of heavy plastic but was wrapped in a some sort of easy-to-clean material that matched in color the rugs on the floor. I ran my hand lightly along them and each blind swayed just a little under the exerted pressure. Except for the one closest to the bed, which barely moved. It was as if it weighed more. Smiling, I turned back towards the bed and met Loki Odinson's gaze, his brilliant eyes open and awake and bright, the only vibrant thing on an otherwise exhausted body. The photo in the office didn’t do them justice. They were not simply blue or simply green, but in fact an interesting mix of the two.</p><p>        Expressive and mischievous. Tired but dangerous. And above all, annoyed.</p><p>        “Leave that be.” His voice was ragged but he had the most refined, lovely RP accent you normally hear on Jane Austin dramas produced by the BBC.</p><p>        “Clever,” I said with a slight nod. “But how do you charge it?”</p><p>        “That is none of your concern.”</p><p>        “It is a little, if I take the job.”</p><p>        “I will pay you <em>not</em> to take it.”</p><p>        “You realize that your brother will just hire another PT right? Maybe one that cross-stitches booties for dogs or knits scarves for ferrets.” I put my hands on the bed rail as if chatting with a suburban neighbor across the fence about lawn maintenance. </p><p>        “All I really need them to be is gullible,” Loki's voice somehow telegraphed a shrug without him physically resorting to one.</p><p>        “You can’t keep this up.”</p><p>        “Watch me.”</p><p>        We stared each other down for a full three seconds. Taking in his stubborn jaw, snarling tone and bitter disposition another thought popped into my head.</p><p>
  <em>        He doesn’t want to get better.</em>
</p><p>        “Hmm, well this is getting very interesting," I said. "Now I might take the job.”</p><p>        “Woman, I will make your life hell,” he growled.</p><p>        In return I gave him my toothiest smile possible. “Luckily, I’m a masochist who enjoys getting shockingly good pay for enduring abuse.”</p><p>        Loki's eyes gave off a glimmer of toying amusement for just a hair of a second, he smirked and opened his mouth to parry when a noise came from down the hall. Our eyes locked again. Thor was about to return with the nurse. I could see Loki was wondering what I was going to do.</p><p>        “Go back to sleep, your grace,” I smiled. “I know all I need to know now.”</p><p>        Loki just had the time to send me a brief death glare and close his eyes again before the doors opened and a short, middle aged woman came in along with Thor. Introductions followed, the nurse’s name was Mary Breslow, she had a calm voice, good steady hands and a slightly matronly manner of speaking. She was in the storage room getting supplies to start making lunch and didn’t hear Mr. Odinson looking for her and isn’t that just awful? Smiling sympathetically, I suggested we leave the patient to his rest. The three of us moved to the den where I got a chance to speak with Mary some more. She described the patient’s health in more detail and we chatted for a while before Thor excused himself to give us a chance to talk out of his earshot, a gesture which I appreciated.</p><p>        “Is it true he’s not recovering?” I asked after some preliminaries.</p><p>        The poor woman heaved a sigh. “Oh, it’s hard to tell. He’s healing fine, if a bit slow for my liking, but you can’t get him to do much else. He’s not talkative, downright rude most days. No please or thank-you and he's stubborn like a child. Not used to being told what to do - that’s his problem.”</p><p>        I suspected something more than just that, but I could also definitely see where she was coming from.  </p><p>        “And because he’s so uncooperative some of the most difficult parts are just moving him about, getting him clean, changing his clothes, changing his bed sheets, that sort of thing.” Continued Mary with some exasperation.</p><p>        “Oh, I’ll definitely help with that." I said, "We can split the work and if we team up against him, we can bully him into being more active. He needs to start getting out of that bed and out of that room.”</p><p>        “Bless me, he certainly does, but it’s impossible to talk him into anything!” She gave me a friendly smile, “oh, I would be glad to have someone here! Mr. and Mrs. Odinson are very good people and it’s good money, but it gets lonely and I miss my grandbabies and my kitties something awful.” We chatted some more after that and eventually Thor came back and I said my good-byes. Mary was really a perfectly nice woman and clearly a very decent nurse, cats in vests not withstanding, 999 patients out of a 1000 would probably thrive under her care.</p><p>        As we left that section of the house and walked back towards his office, I said to Thor, “I need to speak with you. I have my reservations about this placement, but I am interested in the job.”</p><p>        “Well, that's good to hear,” he answered. “I would like you to meet my wife, she just came back from her run. We can all talk. There are a few factors I want you to be aware of before you make your decision.”</p><p>        Walking back through the office doors I saw, backlit by the enormous window, the small wiry figure of Valerie North.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"Crocheting sweaters for cats" is a real name of at least two different books.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Questions and Answers.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Val North was below average height, her dark skin still slightly glistened from her run, her curly hair was pulled up in messy bun and she was wearing two hundred dollars worth of understated work-out clothes that only accentuated her incredible physique. She was all lean, hard muscle but her face was open and friendly and good-humored. She didn’t look like someone who can break every bone in your body twice, she looked like some guy’s fun kid sister.</p><p>        I didn’t expect her to recognize me, but and soon as she took one look at me she said:</p><p>        “Lincoln Avenue Gym, right?” without the slightest hint of doubt in her voice.</p><p>        “Oh, you’ve met?” asked Thor.</p><p>        As he went to sit behind his desk once more, Thor's hand lightly touched his wife’s waist when she moved to stand by his side. It was a small and sweet gesture of affection. He was about three times her weight and almost two feet taller. I found myself wondering what their private life was like. Two massively fit people like that must break a lot of furniture.</p><p>        Then I mentally kicked my own stupid brain to get it to refocus and stop being gross.</p><p> <em>Been a while, I guess. </em></p><p>        “I’m a member of one of your wife’s gyms” I said by way of explanation, “but we never properly met.”</p><p>        Val and I shook hands as Thor introduced me - unsurprisingly, she had a powerful grip. I sat back down in front of the desk, but she remained standing which put her at just about eye level with her now also sitting husband. He pulled out some papers and I recognized my resume and list of references among them.</p><p>       “You are, I believe, entirely qualified for this position,” Thor began, “but there are aspects of it that may give you pause. The NDA is one, but there are others. For one thing, my brother can be difficult at the best of times. He is not a social person and very few people keep his attention for long. In part, I believe, his recovery progress is so slow because he does not like poor Mary, but I don’t want to let her go just because my brother is being a jerk. She is a perfectly fine nurse.”</p><p>        I nodded, so Thor is, at least, fully aware of his sibling’s flaws. That’s better than nothing, some people have real blinders on when it comes to family.</p><p>        “Because of how secluded this house is" he continued, "and a number of other reasons, I’m going to ask you to be a live-in physical therapist. I can promise you good compensation, but I know that for a lot of people this is a deal breaker.”</p><p>        “Not for me,” I said easily. “I would need a few days to get some things in order, but I’ve done this sort of thing before. My only issue is that the wing where your brother is located only has two bedrooms and both are currently occupied.”</p><p>        “Oh this house has many guestrooms and you are free to take any one that appeals to you,” said Thor. “Only my wife and I live in the front part at the moment and we travel often, which brings me to the next point.”</p><p>        He turned to his wife and she picked up the conversation naturally. “Last year, before any of this happened, I signed on with the BBC to do a documentary. Three former Olympic athletes, each with a plus one, hike and explore the Himalayas. My husband and I agreed to go, thinking it would be an excellent adventure. Shooting starts mid-August and continues into November. There is a month of training and preparation followed by a gradual ascent, the progression is slow so that the human body can acclimate to the lower oxygen environment.”</p><p>        I glanced at the calendar on the wall, “So you have to leave in about two months for a further two months or so? And while you’re away, Loki is to stay here with Mary and myself and continue the rehabilitation process?”</p><p>        “It is not an ideal situation for anyone," said Thor heavily, "but we already signed the contract and breaching it will cause a lot of trouble for a lot of people and draw a lot of attention.”</p><p>        I took my time processing this information and wondering what to say next.</p><p>
  <em>        What the hell, might as well put my cards on the table. </em>
</p><p>        “On the surface, I have to problem with any of this, but I do have hesitations. May I please speak frankly?”</p><p>        The couple nodded in unison.</p><p>        “Your brother is not getting better because he does not want to get better," I said bluntly. "A lot of recovery is attitude and he has a very bad one at the moment. Frankly, he’s given up, that’s not something that can be fixed with physical therapy, it’s entirely psychological. And I look at this man who is rich, and handsome, and has a loving family and has been fortunate enough to escape death and think, if he is that depressed then something in his life must have happened. The accident is not the cause of his depression, it is, at most, the straw that broke the camel’s back. And for me to deal with him, to get him to leave his bed and start trying to walk and develop muscle and do hydrotherapy, I need to know. Even just in the broadest strokes, the context of what I’m working with here. What came before the straw? What was he laden with before the crash?”</p><p>         For a full ten seconds there was silence as the couple exchanged glances. Finally Thor turned his head back towards me, fiddled with the pen he was holding and said:</p><p>         “You're asking us to reveal some very confidential and private information.”</p><p>         “I know that,” I agreed. “And you are fully within your right <em>not </em>to reveal it, but with all due respect, I like the idea of this job, I like the challenge and I like the money but I can’t play with just the goalpost and no clue what the field is like. Or are you telling me your brother is likely to be forthcoming about whatever it is that is causing him emotional strain?”</p><p>         Val made a soft scoffing noise.</p><p>         “I have no problem signing an NDA,” I reminded them. “I will keep any and all personal information to myself, I want to help, but this is my one condition and if I don’t have your cooperation here then, I’m very sorry, but will have to refuse the job.”</p><p>         Thor and Val looked at each other again and without exchanging words came to some sort of agreement. Thor leaned back and signed, Val put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze.</p><p>        “Our father died last year,” Thor began without preamble. “That, in itself, was distressing although not surprising. In the last year of his life he suffered from a number of health issues, including dementia, and was not emotionally or physically stable. But while his death was not a surprise it was still a painful ordeal for all of us. Our relationship with our father has always been difficult, I will not go into detail, but his death greatly affected both of us.” He paused, gathered his thoughts and pressed on.</p><p>        “In the last decade of his life our father slowly transitioned away from business into semi-retirement. He never picked either of us as an official successor, instead Loki and I took over the day to day management of the company in different roles. Loki is far more reticent, far more comfortable dealing with numbers and board members and partners and contracts. He is a lawyer by education, although he never practiced. He worked from the London head office and lived in the city. I moved to America. The style and flow of this country appeals to me more. I am more social and more comfortable with people. I came here to run the expanding American offices and to woo potential clients and partners.”</p><p>        “Someone has to do it," I said. </p><p>        “Precisely,” smiled Thor.</p><p>        “On our father's death, my wife and I flew out to London for the funeral and to sort out the legal matters, part of which was the inheritance. None of us expected surprises, generally speaking we were made aware of the contents of the will a long time ago. As our older sister, Hela, chose not to be involved with the running of the company, she got a lump sum and a bundle of company stocks, the remainding assets were split between Loki and myself. This much is widely known, what is not known was that attached to the will was a letter written by our father to us, his children. He wrote it and appended it to his will, which he revised following the death of our mother some fifteen years ago. In it our father explains ... somewhat dryly I must admit ... that biologically, Loki is not his son, he was adopted by our parents when Hela and I were still small children and Loki was only six months old.”</p><p>        It was as though the bottom fell out from underneath the chair I was sitting on.</p><p>
  <em>        Christ, what a thing to find out about yourself!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        And what a time to do so in!</em>
</p><p>        “Please forgive me if I state the obvious," I mumbled cautiously after a moment's pause, "but this was not a very gentle way to reveal such sensitive information.”    </p><p>        “Absolutely." Thor's tone was one of absolute conviction mixed with a hint of bitterness underneath. "But if you knew our father you would know that this was very much in character for him. It seems that our mother intended to reveal the same facts to Loki in a more gentle way, but her sudden death from a stroke eliminated that possibility and father continued to conceal them until his metal deterioration was such that I suspect he forgot them himself.”</p><p>        I winced. Not a pretty set up at all. “May I ask some questions which you are in no way expected to answer?” I asked.</p><p>        “Certainly.” Genuine or not, Thor’s tone remained friendly, something I was very glad of.</p><p>        “What was Loki’s reaction?”</p><p>        “There was none. My brother is extremely stoic and rarely shows emotion. He shut down any attempts to discuss the revelation, there in the office and multiple times afterwards. That is his way.”</p><p>        “What an extremely unhealthy habit to form. Was he given <em>any</em> details about the circumstances of his adoption? Or was he simply given the bare fact of biology?”</p><p>        “No, some detail was provided, enough that if he chose to look into the matter, he could."</p><p>        Thor's voice was getting cautious and so I shifted the direction of the conversation. “Do you know if your brother has a habit of seeing a therapist?”</p><p>        “I suspect not, it would be quite unlike him” replied Thor.</p><p>        “Do you know if he ever took any medication?”</p><p>        “Not that I know of.”</p><p>        I hesitated on the next question, but I had to know, “Is there any chance the crash was self-induced?”</p><p>        “Police were reasonably satisfied in calling it an accident,” replied Thor after some thought. “Part of it was caught on film by a surveillance camera and the man driving the van admitted he was tired and sleepy.”</p><p>        Leaning back in the chair for the first time since the interview started, I looked past Mr. and Mrs. Odinson, at the wide expanse of immaculate clover lawn on the other side of the enormous floor-to-ceiling glass window.</p><p>        "Has you brother ever experienced addiction? At all, to anything?"</p><p>        "Loki has a taste for hard liquor but I cannot recall the last time I've seen him inebriated. His fondness for chocolate and sushi is far more severe."</p><p>        I smiled at the statement automatically, filing away the received information with one part of my brain but still thinking with the other. “What else is there?” I asked finally.</p><p>        “What makes you think there’s more?” asked Thor. </p><p>        “Intuition,” I replied with a shrug.</p><p>        “I cannot tell you very much about the other issue because I don’t know what happened there myself. I know that for years that my brother was seeing a woman named Lisa. We were not well acquainted, the last time I saw her was at our wedding over a year ago. She is a writer of some renown, mostly known in Europe. They lived together and attended social events as a couple. After the accident I flew to London and came to my brothers’ flat to get a some of his things while he was still unconscious in the hospital. I noted then that the flat showed no sign of anyone living there other than Loki himself. I asked the doorman and he confirmed, Lisa moved out several months ago. I did not approach this topic for some time but eventually did ask Loki about it and he confirmed that him and Lisa were no longer together. He did not elaborate any further and I did not wish to pry.”</p><p><em>        Fantastic. </em>I lapsed into silence again. <em>Messy. So messy. I'd be working with an emotional wreck. </em></p><p>        I glanced at the portrait again, at those beautiful, mischievous blue-green eyes. I remembered the same eyes looking up at me from the hospital bed, still alive and up to no good even though they were now tinged with grief and loss and betrayal. </p><p>        “Call the lawyer,” I said as I got to my feet. “Draw up all the necessary paperwork. I’ll do it, I’ll get him back on his feet.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>At last!<br/>Plot!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. "En garde! Prêts? Allez!"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        The good thing about having virtually no personal life is that it makes it very easy to put on hold when a good job comes along. All I really needed to do was empty out the fridge, take out the trash, shut off the water valve and ask one of my neighbors to collect my mail. Having done this sort of thing before, there was nothing about it that was unusual for me. I have long since transferred all my financial bills and payments online so physically not being at home for months was not going to be a major issue. Thor and I agreed to a six-month commitment with a one-month probation period and room to renegotiate any time after that. If all went well the job would take me all the way up to Christmas, so I had to call my mother to let her know I will be living away from my apartment for a while. She, of course, made a fuss about the whole thing. It was bad enough I was living in New York, a city she hated with a passion. Now her delicate Southern sensibilities were scandalized by the fact that I will be living with strangers, many of them <em>male</em>. I had to filter out a lot of information when telling her this news.</p><p>        The interview was on a Wednesday, it took a couple of days to get the paperwork in order and I packed and prepped everything over the weekend and arrived back at the Odinson house late Sunday evening. I was given a very comfortable room with an en-suite bathroom and located close to the kitchen. Since I only ever grab the bare necessities when I’m on an live-in assignment it was easy to unpack. When the sun set I turned out all the lights, pulled away the window blinds and spent some time looking up at the stars. The house was so far from the city that there was almost no light pollution and you could see, high above you, the brilliant constellations in the clear, dark sky. The building and surrounding lawn and gardens occupied only a small portion of the overall property. Half the house faced a dense wooded area that went on for miles and my window overlooked the tall imposing shadow of the forest. As the wind picked up I could see the trees; black against the twilight sky, swaying in the breeze.</p><p>        My finders felt cold and my legs felt numb as a familiar wave of anxiety crept up and washed over me. In the quiet room, away from the more familiar sights and sounds of the city, my own panicked heartbeat felt loud in my ears.</p><p>
  <em>        Why did I commit myself to this? Why did I sound so sure to Thor, who was clearly desperate to help his brother? What if I failed? I'm no shrink. Christ, I could probably use one myself! What made me think I could help someone?</em>
</p><p>        Forcing myself to make careful, slow, deliberate movements I closed the blinds, I sat down on the bed and counted down from fifty.</p><p>
  <em>        Girl, you got this. You’ve dealt with all sorts before. Remember James? Loss of a limb, muscular atrophy, partial memory loss, PTSD and violent tendencies on top of everything else and you managed fine. Now he's your best reference. Now he's a friend. You've been doing this for years. Just go to bed. </em>
</p><p>        And so I did.</p><p>        Healthcare workers tend to sleep light and wake early. My cellphone was at five minutes to six when I woke naturally and glanced at it. After a shower I put on my blue scrubs and soft sneakers, brushed out and braided my hair to coil in a crown around my head. The dark waves bestowed upon me by a complicated cultural heritage at times seriously crossed into the frizzy territory. Putting it up was a practiced process for me and one that helped me get into my work personality. Which was a lot like my real personality but with a bit less bite and a bit more pep. After getting ready I grabbed a reusable water bottle and made my way to the kitchen, where Val was preparing some sort of shake mixture. She gave me a friendly smile as she dumped the green concoction into two identical tall glasses.</p><p>        “Good morning, did you sleep well?”</p><p>        “Yes, thank-you” I replied. “It’s very quiet here, especially when compared an apartment in Queens.”</p><p>        “I’ve always hated city living,” confessed Val as she sipped from her glass. “If I never have to hear the late-night hiss of tires on pavement, I’ll die happy a happy woman. Would you like some breakfast? You’re welcome to raid our fridge.”</p><p>        “That’s very nice of you, but I don’t eat breakfast.”</p><p>        “Oh how very controversial!" she gasped dramatically, "I love it!”</p><p>        “The pancakes! They still call out to me sometimes!" I replied in a similar tone, then added more casually as I filled my bottle from the kitchen tap. "I fell into skipping breakfast in college and found it very convenient. I’ll make myself some tea closer to mid-morning but otherwise I’m good until noon. I meant to ask you though, I’ve pretty much assumed this place has a gym…”</p><p>        “Naturally!” Val laughed. “It’s in a separate wing, out back. Come, I’ll show you, my husband should be finishing up his workout just now.”</p><p>        She took the second glass and we started walking to the back of the house.</p><p>        “I hope the geography of this place is not too confusing for you,” she said. “The house is vaguely H-shaped. As you come to the middle the quarters where my brother-in-law lives is on the back right side and the gym is on the back left next to my husbands office. There is enclosed pool in the very rear of the building and a sort-of-courtyard in the middle, you can see it here.”</p><p>        We came to a hallway and I recognized the doorway leading to Loki’s quarters off to one side, but we went in the opposite direction, past Thor’s office and around the corner. This corridor was flooded with light because one wall of it was entirely glass, floor to ceiling, and overlooked a delicate enclosed garden. A long trellis covered with flowering vines ran along the length of the opposite brick wall, moss covered stones and perfectly trimmed hedges lined the perimeter, there were small trees and flowering shrubs and in the very middle three miniature red maples with delicate long leaves. It was not a true Zen garden, but it was something similar to it in style, which was just asymmetric enough to be soothing.</p><p>        “It’s immaculate.” I said after halting for a moment to admire it.</p><p>        “Yes. My late father-in-law would often sit here for hours and hours. Sometimes he thought he was waiting for his wife and grow confused and upset, but other times he seemed almost at peace."</p><p>        Half hidden behind the decorative shrubs and the bowing maple branches I noticed a long, low wooden bench.</p><p>        “May I ask what you think of this case?” asked Val in a neutral voice, as she stood next to me, gazing out into the garden.</p><p>        “Oh, it’s too early to make any prognostications.” I said with a cheery affect, “I’ve not even had any real contact with the patient!”</p><p>        “He won’t like you,” it was a curt statement but not an unkind one. “Please don’t take it personally. Loki doesn’t like anyone.”</p><p>        “Is that just the kind of person he is or is that because of the recent issues he’s faced?”</p><p>        “Loki’s always been an ass. He gets away with it because he’s charming and rich and handsome, but make no mistake, he can be an absolute bastard. The way to deal with him is not to take any of his crap, to stand your ground, nothing else will do.”</p><p>       “Your husband truly loves him,” I said.</p><p>       “Oh yes,” agreed Val easily and without malice. “And I dare say, if Loki is capable of loving anyone since their mother passed it’s probably Thor, although he’d rather die than show it. But Thor is a giant teddy bear when it comes to family - Loki <em>is</em> his brother, factors like blood or biology are irrelevant to him. Loki could kill 80 people and Thor would still find a way to stand by his side.”</p><p>        “And you?”</p><p>        “I love my husband,” said Val simply as she started to walk again. “I want whatever makes him happy and keeps him sane.”</p><p>        We walked down to the very end of the hall and through propped open chrome doors into … oh, I don’t even know how to describe it. It was not a home gym, it was a mini sports complex. I won’t go into too much detail, but I will tell you is that they had a full weight room, a rock climbing wall and their enclosed pool was one of those that could simulate different intensities of current to swim against. I don’t know why I was surprised.</p><p>        As we entered Thor set down an enormous dumbbell with a dull thud and came towards us. It was like watching the front page of Men’s Health approach you. He had exactly zero body fat and every visible, gleaming, sculpted muscle on his body was honed to perfection. I wasn’t even turned on; I was too busy being impressed. He wasn’t a professional athlete or even a model or even an actor. He was a 9-to-5 businessman! He did this to himself in his <em>spare time</em>.</p><p>        “Christ almighty,” I said as I watched him accept the shake from his wife. “Why don’t you just lift the cars in the garage?”</p><p>        “Too much of a wimp,” said Thor with an easy smile. “Come, we will show your around this place.” The couple gave me a tour of the place. In addition to every possible bit of gym equipment Thor also got some rehabilitation stuff like special parallel bars, props and pulleys. In addition to a pool there was also a boxing ring, showers and even a sauna. “I was going to get some smaller equipment, but I didn’t know what would be best,” said Thor as we made our way back. "If you need something specific ..."</p><p>        “Oh, no need,” I said easily. “I brought my own, although I’ll have to make an evaluation first. I read the files you gave me, but it’s always better to see the level of mobility you’re working with for yourself.” I glanced at the big clock hanging by the entrance to the gym. “It’s nearly 8am now, I think I’ll get to work.”</p><p>        “Best of luck, milady.”</p><p>        I raised my eyebrow at that as I started off, but I suppose if anyone can make “milady” enter back into common parlance it will probably be Thor.</p><p>        Mary was preparing the breakfast tray in the kitchen when I came in. She kindly offered me coffee or tea, which I declined. Mary’s own breakfast had just been cleared away. After making sure she didn’t need any help I marched into Loki’s still dark room. If he moved at all in the last five days it didn’t show. So I walked in, came up to the window and yanked on the chord pulling back the blinds. The room faced East and bright, morning, July sun poured into the room and hit Loki straight in the face. He made a protesting noise, his featured scrunched up and he turned away for a few seconds. When his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he sent me a vicious glare.</p><p>        “I was actually dozing, you insufferable wench!”</p><p>        “Too bad, so sad!” I grinned as I plopped on the side of his bed, “the entire house is up, why shouldn’t you be?”</p><p>        “This house is full of lunatics; they are all free to do as they will.”</p><p>        “I'd bet money that before the accident you used to wake up ass early too,” I said, my tone conversational.</p><p>        “Ass early?” One of his very black eyebrows arched way up and his nose wrinkled slightly in distaste at the phrase.  </p><p>        “Technical term.” I said dismissively, “now come on, I wanted to catch you before breakfast so that I could make my initial evaluation. That way, while you’re having your breakfast, I can get suitable equipment for you.”</p><p>        “What equipment? My legs are still in a cast, woman!”</p><p>        “One of your legs is still in a cast, the other is in a brace.” Lifting the blanket off his feet I emphatically pointed out the difference. “There is not much we can do with the right leg until the cast is removed, I’ll give you that, but we can start on the rest. Massage, stretches, exercise, that sort of thing.”</p><p>        The leg still in the cast had multiple compound fractures, it would be another month at least until it could be removed. The X-rays for it were pretty horrific; for a few days he literally didn’t have much of a knee. It’s been reconstructed since then and healing nicely but it would be some time before he could use it. The left leg suffered one stable and two hairline fractures. The cast had come off a few weeks ago. I examined both legs with great care, replaced the blanket and looked up to see his blue green eyes boring into me.</p><p>        “How long have you been hired for?” he asked.</p><p>        “Until you get better.”</p><p>        “And if I don’t?”</p><p>        “Job permanence is hard to come by," I shrugged. "My mother will be thrilled, if nothing else.”</p><p>        He continued to stare daggers at me.</p><p>        “Look,” I sighed. “I get that you don’t like any of this, but the faster you recover at least some semblance of mobility the faster you can get out of here and go back to London or wherever, and back to independent life. So come on, let me see your hands. The report said your knuckles were all fractured to hell.”</p><p>        “Is that another technical medical term?” he asked with some acidity.</p><p>        “Oh you betcha, here,” I passed him my sealed water bottle, “can you unscrew the top with your left hand?” As his right arm was still in a hard brace he fumbled holding it a little, but managed the movement decently.</p><p>        “That’s not bad,” I said. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did that hurt?”</p><p>        “Some,” he deadpanned.</p><p>        “Christ almighty, you stiff upper-lipped Brits are something else.” I heaved a sigh then added, “I’ll get you something for the hands. Now show me how you sit up, then I'm going to pull up your shirt.”</p><p>        “Why?”</p><p>        “Fun mostly. But also, I need to check your spine and shoulder alignment.”</p><p>        With his left hand Loki grasped the bed railing and pulled himself up into a sitting position with a wince. I removed the pillows behind him and sat down. The white t-shirt he was wearing was several sizes too big, presumably to make putting it on easier. I lifted it up and examined the myriad of green, yellow and purple bruising on his otherwise near-alabaster skin. He was still heavily bandaged, particularly around the ribs and tight binding stretched on the right over his shoulder and around the neck holding in place the fractured ribs, cracked collarbone and re-aligned shoulder. Despite the weight loss and the enormous punishment his body took I could see the lean, well defined muscle underneath it all. Once, before everything has happened, Loki was in very good shape and it still very much showed. If I had to guess I would say either he ran long distances or was a swimmer, or both.</p><p>        And although I made a bit of a show of admiring Thor, because the man was a brick house in human form and that is very impressive, when it came to personal preferences, I quite favor the other side of the spectrum. I always liked my men lithe and wiry, and here was one before me, so I may have kept my hands on his shoulders just a little longer than was strictly necessary and let them slip down a little towards the rib cage as I checked on the binding.</p><p>        Loki shuddered and leaned away defensively. “Your hands are freezing cold, woman!” He growled.</p><p>        “Ah, my apologies,” I said as I jumped off the bed and pulled down his shirt. “Your shoulders are even and the bruising seems to be healing nicely, if slowly. Do you get back pain?”</p><p>       “Some.”</p><p>       “Where?”</p><p>       He rolled his left shoulder with a wince, “below the neck, between the shoulder blades.”</p><p>       “Possibly a pinched nerve or a slipped disk, I’ll give you a massage before the day is out, that should help.” I sat down directly in front of him and put the palms of my hands on either side of his neck, just below the jaw. His eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything. Slowly, I tilted his head back.</p><p>       “Does that hurt?” I asked.</p><p>        “Some,” was his curt reply.</p><p>        I straightened him back up and this time tilted his head to the right. “Does that hurt?” I asked again.</p><p>        “Some.”</p><p>        However when I tilted his head to the left and felt him wince under my fingertips. “Does that hurt?”</p><p>        “Yes.”</p><p>        “I’m going to go ahead and assume <em>Yes</em> means more hurt than <em>Some,</em>” I pointed out tartly. “Turn your head towards the window please.”</p><p>        He did.</p><p>        Christ almighty, he had perfect features! You couldn't help but admire it! In the morning sun they stood out starkly, severely, beautifully and he was so pale, cold and restrained that it was as though he was sculpted from marble.</p><p>        “Other way please.”</p><p>        Loki turned his head in the opposite direction and his long, soft, dark hair tickled at my wrists. A slow lazy smile spread over his lips. “You get off on doing this, do you not?” he whispered and his voice was like poisoned honey. “You love benevolently fixing little broken cripples, it feeds something in you.” His left arm slipped around my waist smoothly and brought me closer, until we were only inches apart. His eyes, piercing and dangerous, stared into mine and pinning me down.</p><p>        “The good little chipper nurse facade, some cheerful nonsense out of that pretty mouth, they must eat it right up," his voice was cruel and mocking. "Who was it that you failed to save? Was it your father? Is that who you keep seeing in everyone you care for? How very sad.”</p><p>        Something about his voice, more than anything he actually said, brought a wave of long suppressed memories into my mind. Chief among them was an image of a sun filled cemetery, perfectly reproduced it jumped into my mind out of nowhere. The perversely cheerful chirping of birds above my head as the closed, lacquered casket was being lowered into the ground. I viscerally recalled being scared of it. Why was it so black? Why was it taking <em>him</em> underground? Why were there so many flowers? <em>He never liked flowers all that much ...</em></p><p>        My hands were still around Loki’s neck so I lowered them slowly and thenslipped out of his grasp as calmly as I could. He made no attempt to restrain me. When I got to my feet and took one step back I realized I was not breathing, so tried my best to casually fix this oversight. We stared at each other for a few moments before I turned away and said matter-of-factly, “I will be back in a few hours to work out a schedule and exercise regime that works for you.” It took a lot out of me to get my voice not to shake.</p><p>        “Oh sweetling, did I struck a nerve?” Loki’s voice was smug and fire rose in me when I heard it, I knew I couldn’t leave with him like that.</p><p>        He got me to drop my guard, lured me closer, lunged and landed a cut. If I left him like that I would be letting him win. My temper flared up, I turned, looked down at him and with my tone bored and indifferent said: "Oh hardly, you can’t expect me to be impressed, I suppose for you everything comes down to daddy issues.”</p><p>        Loki's face blanched. How that was possible, considering he was already very pale, I don’t know but he was white as a sheet and his entire body radiated sudden, palpable rage. To drive the knife in deeper, I gave him a tiny knowing smile.</p><p>        “Wretched bint,” he spat.</p><p>        “Come over here and say that,” I replied calmly as I watched him seethe.</p><p>        There was a sudden knock on the door and Mary’s cheerful voice broke through the tension in the room like a freight train. “Are you quite finished? Is he decent?”</p><p>        “Yes, do come in!” I said loudly without breaking my gaze.</p><p>        Mary bustled in with the breakfast tray. “Goodness how much better it is here with the blinds up! It is such a nice day! I was on the phone with my daughter last night and she said she's going to take her twins to the splash pad! Isn’t that nice? I made you an omelet Mr. Odinson and some toast and tea!” She turned to me. “I have to run my usual tests now, is that all right?”</p><p>        “Yea,” I said, turning away. “We're done, I’ll come back around noon to relieve you.”</p><p>        Without glancing back at Loki I turned and walked out of the room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Regarding Chapter title:<br/>In fencing, the phrase "En garde! Prêts? Allez!" is uttered by a referee before each round. It translates to "On guard! Ready? Go!" and marks the beginning of an unbroken chain of offensive and defensive actions, such as lunging or parrying, performed by the two fencers.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hot and Cold.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        I was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking strong black tea with a good dollop of sugar and going through my interaction with Loki for the 50<sup>th</sup> time, when my cellphone rang.</p><p>        “Milady!” boomed a cheerful voice in my ear as soon as I picked up, “I called to congratulate you! How did you rile up my brother so quickly! Remarkable progress!”</p><p>        “He called you?” I sputtered.</p><p>        “Yes! Even though he is not supposed to have his phone on him! Isn’t that curious? Loki is back to his usual crafty, sneaky nonsense! I can’t tell you how much this warms my heart!”</p><p>        I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “What did he tell you?” I asked.</p><p>        “Oh all sorts of rude things," said Thor blithely. "He also demanded I fire you immediately, which is why I’m calling. Do not for a minute think I am about to do any such thing. Unless Loki can provide concrete and substantial reasons or proof of some wrongdoing, your contract stands.”</p><p>        “That is very kind of you.”</p><p>        “I also told him not to bother me unless he has a very specific complaint regarding you and that for every vague demand of dismissal he makes I will pay you a bonus 1000$, then I hung up. Naturally he called me back immediately, which is why there will be a slight increase to your wage at the end of next week.”</p><p>        “Thor," I balked, "that is entirely unnecessary!”</p><p>        “No milady, it’s the only way he’ll learn. Trust me, I’ve known him since we were both in diapers.”</p><p>        “Far be it from me to refuse extra cash, but you already are paying me exceedingly well.”</p><p>        “Loki is a pile and a half of trouble. The extra money will feel necessary at times, milady. Now I must go to a meeting, but I will return home in the evening and we can talk more then. Have a good day.”</p><p>        He hung up and I couldn’t help but laugh again. This whole family was so ridiculous!</p><p>        I looked at the two containers of putty in front of me and checked the time. There was still 20 minuets or so to kill. You can get a lot over-analyzing done in 20 minutes. I recalled the entire conversation in my head and concluded that my behavior towards Loki was mean but probably necessary. It was never my intention to bring up the parent situation, but he forced my hand by being cruel and I replied in kind. Sometimes you have to play the cards you are dealt. However, as the topic of fathers is clearly a raw point for both of us I made a commitment to avoid it as much as possible from now on. Had Loki not been such a grabby jerk I’d probably feel a lot worse about the whole thing.</p><p>        When I came back to the Hospital Wing, (yes, mentally I called it that, as its main function is to hold an injured Brit until he recovers) Mary was putting away the blood pressure monitor. Loki was sitting ramrod straight on the bed and looking out the window. He didn’t react to me coming into the room. Mary and I spoke for a bit; Loki’s vitals were mostly normal but his sugar was low and his appetite was down. We agreed I would take over for a bit and give her time to clean up and set up for lunch, then Mary left the room and I was alone with Loki again.</p><p>        Coming up to his bed I sat down in the same place I was in when he manhandled me. He still would not turn towards me.</p><p>        “Don’t.” I told him, this time with none of my typical peppy tone or affectation. “You stabbed, I parried, let’s call it even.” I popped the lid off one of the containers, “here, take this, it’s therapy putty. Pink is for your left hand and yellow is for the right, they have different resistance levels so don’t mix them together.”</p><p>        Loki turned and watched my hands as I rolled the putty into different shapes and showed him different kinds of palm exercises, then he silently tried it himself. His right hand, still partly bound by the cast at the wrist, could only manage limited movements.</p><p>        “This feels ridiculous.” He griped at the practice.</p><p>        “If you don’t feel like doing complicated exercises, just squeeze it like a stress ball and picture throttling someone.”</p><p>        Loki looked up and the corner of his mouth twitched just a little, I gave him a sardonic smile in return and that was that. From that moment our relationship became near amicable, if distant. Perhaps Loki was the type to respect a good punch in the teeth or perhaps he was only biding his time. I don’t know what conclusion he reached about me but he did not approach Thor about firing me again and he did most of the physio exercises I gave him, although he did grumble the whole way through every one of them.</p><p>        Later that week a Dr. Baig came to give Loki his usual check up. He was a small, wiry man with short dark hair and a very cautious manner of speaking. I was present during his exam, along with Mary, and afterwards I spoke to the doctor at length about the patient’s condition while sipping tea in the Hospital Wing’s living room. Mary stayed behind to help Loki wash up and joined us later. After a lot of technical talk between the three of us I finally asked what the patient is and is not allowed to do.</p><p>        “In a wheelchair, he can move about as much as he wants, inside or outside,” said the doctor. “The house is built in such a way that this would not present major difficulties. I would recommend extra sleep during the day for at least a few hours. No alcohol, minimal caffeine, healthy meals, limited strenuous physical activity outside of therapy. All forms of stress must be minimized. As he is still recovering from a concussion, he will likely continue to get eyestrain related headaches for some time. Because of this I insist on no screen time for the time being.”</p><p>        “It’s making him very restless,” I pointed out mildly.</p><p>        “I should think so, in this day and age a man with his kind of job is probably eager to get back to work, but I don’t want to introduce extra stressors at this moment in his recovery,” he replied placidly. “If, as I suspect, his main issue is that of boredom the introduction of physical therapy will alleviate it.”</p><p>        I wondered at the faith some people put into physical therapists as I walked the doctor to the door.</p><p>        Having established the theoretical parameters within which I would have to work, I could now begin my job in earnest. As time passed Mary and I settled into a schedule. She prepared Loki breakfast, ran all her tests and procedures first thing in the morning. Then Mary and I helped him into a wheelchair and I took him to the gym. After about two hours of rehab work, we made our way back to his room, where Mary and I helped him wash up, afterwards he ate lunch and was left alone for about three hours to rest. In the afternoon I helped him with smaller, low impact upper body exercises for a few hours, then gave him a massage and left him for the day in Mary’s care.  </p><p>        He very clearly hated every moment of this process and I had a pretty good idea why. Loki hated relinquishing control.</p><p>        He was humiliated by it.</p><p>        Most people enjoy being fussed over and waited upon and, unfortunately, for most of us being sick or injured is the only time we get to experience such a thing. So an average person is usually a little embarrassed to be in someone's care at first but as they form a relationship with their carer they let up and sometimes even low-key enjoy it. However, I also met patients who resent the encroachment on their freedom, independence and body autonomy and Loki was very much a part of this latter group. He clearly did not like to be touched or observed in scenarios he had no control over. Furthermore, being given absolutely nothing to do was setting his teeth on edge.</p><p>        One day, midway through my third week, after I finished massaging his injured leg, I had him sit up to work on his back. As my fingers worked I could feel, not for the first time, the knots up and down his back from the stress and the frustration.</p><p>        “Christ, but you’re tense,” I mumbled. “Do you want me to do something about that? Because I can.”</p><p>        “I have no doubt,” Loki’s voice was low and smooth, with just a touch of humor. “But I believe policies advise against that sort of activity with patients.”</p><p>        I have his left side a slight pinch. “I’m talking about massage, wise-ass.”</p><p>        He chuckled and the wide expanse of lean muscle under my fingers rippled delicately and intriguingly as I got to work. There is a difference between massage for therapy purposes and massage for the purpose of relaxation. To loosen the tension in his upper back my movements became less firm and more soothing. Gradually, Loki’s shoulders sagged forward a little and I could feel the knots under my fingers dissipate. I spread my palms out across his shoulder blades and ran my thumbs down along his spine slowly, using this time to feel for the position of the disks. After getting down to practically his waist, my hands made the same slow ascent back up and then, without thinking, I slipped my fingers up his neck to the base of his scull and buried them underneath his silky black hair.</p><p>        Loki <em>growled</em>.</p><p>        I don’t know how else to describe that sound. It came from some deep-down part of him and had a very real, very unprofessional effect on a deep-down part of me.</p><p>        My hands jerked back and there was an awkward pause.</p><p>        “Better?” I asked, for I couldn’t think of anything else to say.</p><p>        “Some.” Loki’s voice sounded rougher now.</p><p>        I got to my feet, put the binding back on with shaking hands, got Loki to lie back down and made my escape. After I got through the door and closed it behind me I finally took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. My heart was beating painfully in my chest and my hands were trembling, particularly where the tips of my fingers had scratched at Loki’s skin at the base of his neck.</p><p>        <em>Playfully</em>.</p><p>        In case it is not immediately obvious, that last part was, very strictly speaking, was not part of any kind of therapy. I’ve done it before, but not ever to any patients. And as I helped Loki lay back down I saw him clutch his blanket to his waist and it was not a particularly thick blanket, so I had a pretty good idea why it assumed such an unusual shape.</p><p>        In other words, I just touched a patient flirtatiously and accidentally gave them an erection.</p><p>        <em>I’m going to a very special level of hell. The one with all the wind.</em></p><p>        And, of course, I just gave Loki ammunition against myself as he could, and probably would, use this incident to try to get me fired.</p><p>        <em>Fantastic, brilliant, I am a beacon of professionalism.</em></p><p>        No sleep was had that night. Angry with myself for my stupidity and impulsiveness I was ready to pull my hair out in restless reproach. What’s come over me? How could I behave so foolishly? My mind went around and around and around like that for hours, until the sun rose the next day and then for many days after, but no immediate repercussions followed. It was as though the incident never happened.</p><p>        Later that same week I managed to squeeze out of the doctor two things: a more definitive date for removal of the cast and the indication that the patient can shower, provided all safety precautions are taken and the cast is protected from water. I suspected that the latter was never an issue of doctor permission. It was just that Mary alone, faced with a surly, uncooperative Loki who was nearly two feet taller than her, decided that it was easier to give him sponge baths most of the time. However, with him being more active, a shower now and then was much more preferable and I suspected that his mood might improve from having them.</p><p>        The cast was due to come off in two weeks time, until then he would have to shower with it covered in plastic to avoid getting wet. The whole thing was, of course, a massive rigmarole. Mary and I would help Loki into the wide glass encased shower of the en-suite bathroom and sit him down on a stone recess that served as a bench. One of us would then tape up the cast while the other help him get undressed. We would leave him for about 20 minutes to shower in peace, then come back and do the whole process in reverse. Conveniently, the shower was equipped with guardrails so that he could move about easier and the fixtures were within easy reach. I suspect this was a leftover modification from the days the Hospital Wing housed the patriarch of the Odinson family. Not for the first time I wandered how Loki felt about recovering in the place where his father died, especially if you consider their difficult history.</p><p>        After a few times Mary and I settled into a good pattern and the process became more habitual. Once, in early August, Mary was helping Loki step out of the stall after his shower was finished, while I knelt on the floor to roll up the long stretch of clear plastic we used to cover his cast. I wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening around me. Loki was only very partially dressed and I was doing my best to keep my eyes down and my mind on the job when suddenly there was a scuffling noise, a gasp and then a great big wave of cold, cold, <em>cold</em> water rained on me from above.</p><p>         I screeched in alarm, fell backwards flat on my ass and scrambled to turn around.</p><p>         Here is where a good lawyer would argue that Loki simply lost his footing while stepping out of the glass stall, stumbled and grabbed the first available thing to keep him from falling over and that thing <em>just happened</em> to be the tap connected to the giant rainmaker shower over my head. But as I stood there; dripping wet, cold and shivering, I looked into Loki’s eyes and saw in them the barely contained amusement and mischief, nothing on earth could convince me that what happened was done by accident.</p><p>        This was my delayed payback for the massage transgression. Loki clearly believed in the idea of revenge best served freezing cold.</p><p>        And I could have left it there, I certainly could have. <em>In theory</em>. It would probably even be a very good idea. But again a sense of stubborn rebellion rose up in me. </p><p>        Mary gasped and fluttered about trying to find me something to wear. She left Loki leaning against the wall in front of me, where he seemed perfectly happy to stay. I didn’t say anything, I just met his gaze and then slowly pulled the drenched top of my scrubs over my head and tossed it on the floor before his feet in a wet heap.</p><p>        The action was not as risqué as you might first assume. I always wear a comfortable and fairly modest sports bra under my scrubs. Dressed in just that bra and the scrub pants, which were also wet but far less so, I exited the stall, brushed past Loki and slowly and deliberately bent over to pick up his large white t-shirt. It was the one he discarded before going into the shower. Turning to face Loki I slowly put it on.</p><p>         He never stopped staring, never once averted his eyes, even for show. </p><p>         He didn’t have much on either, and it was entirely distracting in the worst possible way. His bare chest was still quite bruised and scarred but somehow, perversely, this added to it’s appeal rather than diminished it. A fluffy dark towel was draped around his narrow hips and a trail of silky black hair peeked from beyond it and led up to his bellybutton. Little beads of water still clung to his pale skin. I knew I was staring but I couldn’t turn away, automatically my hands wrapped around my waist and pressed the dry cotton to my body for warmth.</p><p>        Loki licked his lips. Just a little.</p><p>        Throughout this entire wordless interaction, which in real time lasted only maybe 10 or 15 seconds at most, Mary was still in the background rummaging through the built-in closet for more towels and agonizing over not having anything for me to wear on hand. She was saying something the entire time and yet I didn’t hear a word of it.</p><p>         When I finally came to my senses I tuned into Marys’ speech mid-sentence:</p><p>         “-goodness you must be freezing, all these new fixtures just spray water even if you so much as brush against them, really very difficult to find a good one, oh dear maybe I can give you one of my set of scrubs but of course you are so tall, my dear …”</p><p>         “That’s all right,” I said calmly. “This will do for now, let’s get Mr. Odinson dressed, I don’t want him to get too cold.”</p><p>         Mary looked back to see me more or less decent and said:</p><p>         “Oh yes, good idea dear, that will have to do for now.”</p><p>         She came back and handed me a fluffy towel with which I dried my face and hands and padded my hair a little. Together, we got Loki dressed and transferred him back to his bed. I started on his usual massage and Mary went off to get his dinner ready. As I worked I could feel his eyes on me and I did my best to ignore him. The short hairs around my face started to curl from the moisture and tickled the sides of my face slightly. I tried to focus on that.  </p><p>        “You seem a little cold.” Loki’s voice was laced with mock concern.</p><p>        I knew what he was getting at, but I tried telling myself that it was only a response to the temperature.</p><p>        “I’ll warm up later,” I said without looking up. “In my room.”</p><p>        The massage that day took about ten years, in real time it was only thirty minutes, but it definitely felt like ten years to me. I was intensely keyed up. My hands were calm and steady but my brain kept firing mental images at me a hundred times a minute. I kept imagining climbing onto the bed and on top of him. Sometimes it was to strangle him, but sometimes to do other things.</p><p>        Many other things.</p><p>
  <em>        Has it really been so long that I sunk to developing an attraction to a patient? And an asshole patient at that? Yea, he’s hot but dammit, I’ve had hot patients before and it never got as bad as this. </em>
</p><p>         When I finally left Loki’s room and crossed the house to get to mine I was exhausted. It’s not easy battling your own brain for supremacy. In my quarters I stripped off all the clothes I had on me and laid them out to dry, then I took a warm shower and changed for the night.</p><p>        In the days that followed Loki and I returned to our usual distant quasi-politeness. I helped him exercise, assisted with medical checks and helped with the shower process. He scowled, griped and scowled some more for good measure. The clothes which I laid out in my room dried overnight and I threw them all into the laundry. Everything but the white shirt, which stayed draped over the back of the armchair in my room, as if forgotten. I knew I should put it through the laundry or give it back to Mary or even toss it out, but I just didn't.</p><p>         I never picked it up but I never did anything with it either.</p><p>         It was my reminder of just how big a mess I got myself into. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>According to Dante, horny people are punished in Hell by constantly being battered by a terrible storm.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Off the record.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Loki’s cast came off just as Val and Thor were packing their bags to go on their grand Himalayan adventure on the other end of the house. After Dr. Baig and the assisting doctor left I made some preliminary movement tests to gauge the level of mobility we’d be working with and left Loki to eat his lunch. Thor asked me to drop by his office earlier that day as he was working from home that morning. My suspicion was that he’d be doing this right until he leaves and that he will be working through most of his trip as well.</p><p>        I saw little of Thor throughout my employment and when I did he was outwardly friendly and cheerful but underneath I could just sense how overworked and stressed he really was. When I peeked through the open doorway and I saw him at his desk, squinting at the screen with tired eyes, not for the first time, I felt a great pang of sympathy for him. He was left to manage a lot of loose ends at the worst possible time. Thor benefited from the support of a good, strong, supportive partner and from having good coping mechanisms but still the cracks were beginning to show. I knocked lightly to get his attention and when he looked up his face immediately dissolved into a welcoming smile.  </p><p>        “Milady, please come in, sit, I was hoping to speak with you before I leave.”</p><p>        I sat down across from him and he leaned forward earnestly, like a schoolboy about to be taught his favorite lesson.</p><p>        “The cast was removed at last,” he said. “How does it look?”</p><p>        “Did Dr. Baig not speak with you?”</p><p>        “Oh yes, he did” replied Thor easily. “He sent a followup email as well but I could not understand half the medical jargon in either. Anyway, I wanted your opinions because you see Loki more and you will be the one putting him back on his feet.”</p><p>        “There’s good news and bad news,” I said as I settled in. “The fractures are healing well and are well aligned. There is extensive muscle atrophy, but no evident nerve damage. He should make a full recovery, but any undue strain will produce lingering pain for some time, possibly even years. Once he finishes up the initial and intensive rounds of physio with me and gets back to England, Loki should make a habit of seeing a physio therapist weekly for at least an additional half a year.”</p><p>        “What will happen in the next few months?”</p><p>        “More physically demanding lower body exercises, hydro therapy - I want to make good use of your pool, rehabilitation bars to learn applying weight on the injured legs correctly and gradually. Eventually swimming and walking in small distances, perhaps excursions outdoors if weather permits.”</p><p>        Thor nodded and after a moment of thought said, “I wish very much that I was not going away. There is a lot of work to do at the company and I would have liked to be here with Loki as he begins to recover. At the same time, I know him, and he would not want me here, as he always desired distance and space in moments of vulnerability.”</p><p>        “Then maybe it’s for the best,” I said. “This trip will be a chance for you to get away and spend more time with your wife. Although I suppose your job will be going with you as far up the mountain as it’s technologically possible.”</p><p>        “More or less,” he sighed and suddenly produced a large gift basket from behind his desk. It had all sorts of healthy foods like multi-grain energy bars and whole-wheat muffins as well as carabiners, flasks and other outdoors-y equipment. The whole thing was bound with a big ribbon that said 'PLEASE DON’T DIE UP A MOUNTAIN' on it. "This was a gift from everyone at the office,” Thor explained as he pulled out and unwrapped a CLIFF bar and dug into it while pushing the whole basket towards me. “Please feel free to have some, we cannot possibly take all the food with us.”</p><p>        “That’s a very sweet gesture,” I said.</p><p>        “Yes,” he paused. “I think everyone in the American offices are quietly panicking. They're afraid I will be moving back to England to be closer to the UK headquarters. The US side of the business has been doing well, but the absence of the chief London CEO is very much being felt right now and they are concerned.”</p><p>        “Naturally, they probably fear being downsized. In this day and age, such a thing would put a lot of people in very precarious financial position.” I took a muffin from the basket, peeled off the top and started nibbling on it. For a moment there was silence, then I spoke again. “Thor, may I please make a suggestion?”</p><p>        “Certainly, milady.” He replied easily.</p><p>        “I’m assuming that Loki’s work laptop was among the things you picked up from his place in London at the time of his injury,” I said carefully. “And that it’s here somewhere, possibly buried in the garden, where Loki can’t get to it.”</p><p>        “You are correct, milady,” smiled Thor.</p><p>        “Give it to him,” I said simply. “Before you leave, give him access to his old work life.”</p><p>        “But what about no screen time? What about his concussion?”</p><p>        I sighed and the said quietly and conspiratorially:</p><p>        “Thor, what I’m about to tell you, I’m not telling you as a trained physical therapist to Mr. Odinson, my employer. Do you understand what I mean?”</p><p>        He nodded.</p><p>        “Doctors overshoot recommendations all the time. In part, it’s to play it safe and in part because they assume their instructions will not be followed to the letter. So, the order '<em>No</em> <em>Alcohol'</em> doesn't mean one drink will actually, immediately harm a patient. What it probably means is that some alcohol intake is okay as long as it is infrequent and in moderation, but as so many people have different definitions of '<em>moderation' </em>it’s easier and safer for a doctor to advise no alcohol at all and end it there. For most patients that works fine, but not everyone. It’s all about balance.”</p><p>        I paused for a moment to pick out my words carefully for the next part.</p><p>        “Now, Dr. Baig is a very good doctor but his patients are all very rich, very influential people. He is acutely aware of the fact that any error can cost him his reputation, so he plays it very safe. He had the cast removed at the latest possible time, he prescribed maximum rest, very safe bland food, very placid, relaxing existence. For a lot of people that would be fine - an excuse to just lay there and recover, but Loki is not the type of person who thrives under these conditions. He’s bored and frustrated and he feels useless; babied worse than a child.</p><p>        At the same time, you are running yourself ragged trying to manage two company branches at two ends of the world and also, oh yea, climb the freaking Himalayas in your spare time! You’re basically as healthy as a human can possibly get and you are very well adjusted but even with all that if you keep it up you will keel over in another six months! Let Loki work. It’s what he does best. Instead of forbidding it to him entirely we can set limits and monitor him closely. We already know he can handle some screen time because he definitely has a cellphone hidden in his room and he definitely uses it and his concussion has not gotten worse.”</p><p>        And after thinking it over some more I added, "Also, he's the type that if he’s bored for long enough, he starts amusing himself by tormenting those around him and I don’t much look forward to being in that particular line of fire. Meanwhile, if he gets to answer some work e-mails for a few hours each day that will keep him busy and if he starts getting snippy I can always rip out the internet router to make him behave.”</p><p>        On hearing that last part Thor threw his head back and laughed heartily, when he looked back at me again his blue eyes were twinkling with the kind of merriment one only gets from tormenting a sibling.  </p><p>        “Why milady, you are very devious! A fantastic match for my brother!”</p><p>        I shrugged as I popped the final piece of the muffin into my mouth, “I play the cards I’m dealt.”</p><p>        “Indeed, you do. Very well. I will give him his work computer when I go see him to say my goodbyes. I trust Mary and yourself will find a time frame within which he can work without over straining himself. If the doctor balks at this during his next visit, blame it on me, as I shall be half a world away. I also wanted to give you the pass codes for the gates and show you how to operate the alarms as well as show you where the emergency shut offs for everything in this house is. A security company monitors the house and grounds, of course, and I informed them of the whole situation, but I would also prefer if someone on the inside knew how to work the system and Mary refused outright because anything with a touch-pad apparently gives her hives.”</p><p>        “Fair enough,” I laughed.</p><p>        “Excellent! I will show you now, if you don't mind and have he time.” He got to his feet and suddenly stopped as if he’d had a sudden thought. “Milady, are you still all right staying here? My brother is difficult, I know, but I trust he has never behaved … untoward?”</p><p>        I thought about Loki’s arm snaking around my waist that first day, but also about him shivering under my finger tips. I thought about the sudden cold shower he arranged for me, but also about me stripping before him. It's true that Loki was a piece of work, but was I any better? He could annoy me, but he never made me uncomfortable, I was cautious around him, but I did not fear him. Maybe that in itself was my mistake, but what could I tell Thor? Every time Loki pushed at me, I pushed back in equal measure and we were on equal footing and we understood each other, but it was a wordless sort of understanding. How could I put any of it into words?</p><p>        An image of a white men’s shirt, casually strewn over the back of an armchair in my room, floated before my eyes.</p><p>       <em> That I can’t even explain to myself.</em></p><p>        “He can be rude and he’s capable of a mean prank or two, but I don’t let it get to me. I’ve had worse.” I said casually, “And most times I’m not alone, I have Mary and together we can take him on.”</p><p>        Thor smiled, relief showing plainly on his face and for a moment I thought I saw a hint of something like brotherly affection there as well. As we walked through the door, I remembered what he said earlier.</p><p>        <em>A fantastic match for my brother. </em></p><p>        I tried not to think about that statement too much.</p><p>        I really did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is a bit short and a bit dry, but there was no way to merge it with either the previous or the next in a way that I liked and yet the info here is still needs to be told so here we are. The next one should be a lot more fun. :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Turn the Tide.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Later that day Thor and Val left to catch the overnight flight out of the country. Mary and I watched them leave in a taxi and as the car drove off and the automatic gates shut behind them, we both heaved a hard sigh.</p>
<p>        “Today is the hardest,” said Mary finally. “Because today leaves us with the most days they'll be gone. Tomorrow will be better because that number of days will be less by one. And so, we take things as they come, one step at a time.”</p>
<p>        I liked that attitude, there was something of my mother in Mary’s endless practicality.</p>
<p>        So, I gave her a smile and she smiled back and we went back to work.</p>
<p>        In some ways the job was easier now. Without the cast it was far simpler to help Loki into the shower and all other forms of washing up were retired. Dressing and helping him to the bathroom also became much easier and in some ways Mary’s workload lessened, but mine definitely increased. Loki and I regularly spent up to five or six hours in the gym every day. Though his mood did not improve I found he was gradually growing more invested in recovery and he pushed himself more. That was certainly an improvement but it didn't make my job easier because it’s a lot of work trying to manage a stubborn person who’s trying to go all out on a body that is not yet ready for such a challenge.</p>
<p>        We bickered a lot but there was no malice in it so it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it got to the point where the banter became so practiced that I missed it and started to look forward to it. Loki had a sharp tongue and didn’t hold much back but it was oddly addicting to parry words with him. It was never dull with him in the room provided he talks to you at all. Allowing Loki some access to his laptop and so his work made a huge difference, so much so that I kicked myself for not pushing for it earlier. He was suddenly more focused, more preoccupied and less irritable, he often got more tired in the evenings but was far less likely to make a fuss about getting rest. The doctor made an unholy stink about the whole thing but by the time he saw what was happening Loki was working on his computer three hours a day for a full week and was, by his account, no worse for wear. I was fairly certain he was fibbing about that a bit and yet still sneaking in more work after hours but I let him be for now because on the whole the change yielded a net positive result.</p>
<p>        It was a few weeks after Thor and Val’s departure that Mary came up to me on an early Friday morning, looking grave and apologetic.</p>
<p>        Her beloved twin grandchildren both managed to get ear infections. Her daughter and son-in-law were at the end of their rope taking care of them. Would it be possible for her to sneak out, for just one night, so that they could get some rest? I easily agreed and we arranged it so that she would take my car into the city after Loki’s shower and leave his dinner to warm in the oven. She promised to be back first thing in the morning.</p>
<p>        Just before 6pm I saw her off and suddenly the house seemed even emptier and spookier. I left a lot of lights on and double checked all the alarm systems, then dialed a familiar phone number and placed an order for an obsene amount of sushi. Having done that, I went to see Loki in his room and found him sitting up on his bed squinting at the screen of his laptop. We rarely saw each other after his post-physio shower and massage, so his eyebrows shot up when I entered his room.</p>
<p>        “Where’s Mary?” he asked.</p>
<p>        “She asked me to cover for her while she goes into town for one night. Both her grandkids are terribly sick and her daughter needs all hands on deck. She's just about ready to pull her hair out. Consequently, you have me to entertain you this evening.”  </p>
<p>        A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You can hop back into the shower and I can turn the water on again,” he suggested smoothly.</p>
<p>        “Shame on you Loki,” I answered with mock disappointment. “I assumed that, like any true maestro of being a total pain in the ass, you don’t do repeat performances.”</p>
<p>        “Only for truly appreciative audiences.” This time he did smile and it gave him a slightly vulpine appearance.</p>
<p>        I took care to remain unperturbed as I answered, “Hmm well, I came to tell you that I’m here instead of Mary, but also that you may want to consider working in the living room at the big table, sitting there will probably be easier on your back. And you can eat while you work instead of taking a break.”</p>
<p>        “And what will you be doing?” he asked.</p>
<p>        “Sitting on the living room couch, reading trash and eating my dinner, which should be arriving soon so I’m going to go to the front of the house to make sure the poor Uber Eats guy doesn’t think he’s about to get murdered on a lonely stretch of empty road. Let me know what you think when I get back.”</p>
<p>        I turned around and left. As I made my way through the house my phone chirped; it was the delivery driver telling me he was at the gate. After I received my giant package and tipped, I returned to the Hospital Wing and laid out the sushi platter and various sundries that came with it on the dining room table. Then I pulled from the oven the covered tray Mary prepared and placed it just next to the sushi spread.  </p>
<p>        Then I went to get Loki.</p>
<p>        He was just closing his laptop and pushing away the wheeled hospital table when I came in. Although he could sit up and shift on the bed relatively easily now, during downtime Loki’s legs were still bandaged and held in plastic braces and he still needed a second person to lower them gently to the floor if he wanted to get out of bed. I helped him with that and reached for his wheelchair.</p>
<p>        “Oh, come off it.” He scoffed, “It’s twenty steps from here to the kitchen! If you help me, I can manage it.”</p>
<p>        That … was probably true. I conceded and helped Loki as he made his way towards the living room area, slowly, leaning on me and the walls for support. As he came through the entryway, he saw the food spread out on the table, stopped dead and sent me a questioning look. I’m on the tall side, as far as women go, but Loki was still taller than me by quite a bit, however because of the way he was stooping I had a rare chance to look him level in the eye as he asked:</p>
<p>        “Is that my dinner then?”   </p>
<p>        “Oh no, the sushi is <em>my</em> dinner.” I said mildly, “Although I ordered quite a lot, now that I look at it. Your very carefully prepared, very healthy meal is over there.”</p>
<p>        I helped Loki sit in a chair by the table and put his laptop down beside him. Then I picked up a plate for myself and started piling on it all kinds of sushi on it.</p>
<p>        “Of course,” I continued as I did so, “After I get my food, I’m going to sit down on that couch there and read my very engrossing novel and put my feet up and probably not get a chance to see what exactly you are eating and how much of it.”</p>
<p>        There was a pause as Loki processed what I said. When I finally looked up he was watching me with those cool blue-green eyes and for the first time there was something new in them, some emotion I couldn’t quite quantify. “Why?” he asked finally.</p>
<p>        I shrugged as I settled down among the couch pillows slightly to the side of him.  “Hospital food sucks. And you probably ate out a lot back in London and you probably miss it. It's no skin off my back to order a bit extra.”</p>
<p>        “It was you who talked my idiot brother into giving me my laptop back.” It wasn't a question, he was stating a fact.</p>
<p>        “That was just to make you more bearable,” I shrugged as I picked up my book. “Now hush, the medieval lord is just about to rip the bodice off the peasant girl. I’ve literally been waiting for 63 pages for this.”</p>
<p>        And so, I sat there and read and munched on some dragon roll pieces and Loki worked at the table. A strange sort of domestic silence settled over us, it was almost a full hour later that Loki spoke up:</p>
<p>        “This is the third time you made that scoffing noise.” His tone was conversational, but even as he spoke the keyboard keys never stopped clicking efficiently underneath his long fingers.</p>
<p>        “Well this is the third time the medieval lord mentions that the peasant girl he’s boinking smells like lilac. In December. In Oxfordshire.” I said with a huff. “Now, I’ve never been to Oxfordshire and don’t know much about it, but I’m like 89% certain no lilac is likely to grow there around Christmas time.”</p>
<p>        “As it happens I have been there midwinter and you are 100% correct.”</p>
<p>        “Of course, you have.” I sighed, “I should have known you didn’t exactly go to whatever the UK equivalent of community college is. Anyway, lilac is the least of the historical inaccuracies here; I mean, the peasant girl is consistently described as ‘smooth’ as if to imply she shaves? And her hair is always very clean and cascading? Does she bathe in the river or something? They don’t mention bathhouses.”</p>
<p>        “Why are you reading this drivel?” asked Loki incredulously.</p>
<p>        “I find reading relaxing, but I never read anything of substance on the job. You don’t want to get so into a book you miss a patient flat-lining or something. For this same reason I never cook on the job either. If I ever need to unwind, I just order something pricey and read trashy historical romances.”</p>
<p>        “Double standard,” said Loki with a slight click of the tongue, his eyes still focused on the screen before him. “If I was watching porn on here you would not stand for it.”</p>
<p>        “At the very least I would close the door,” I said mildly.</p>
<p>        “To barricade or to join?” Loki’s voice was half joking, but there was a low suggestive note to it as well. He peered at me mischievously over the top of his computer.</p>
<p>        I found myself slightly melting into the couch at the sound of his suddenly velvety tone. <em>Down girl.<br/></em></p>
<p>        “Depends, at least in part, on the porn surely!” I said after pulling myself together. “And anyway, this book is hardly pornography, everything is far too constrained by clumsy romantic metaphors. I’m really curious as to how it will end, considering it takes place in 1345. I can only assume the epilogue will let the reader know the entire village and castle perished in the plague in two years time.”</p>
<p>        “Your grasp of history is not all too bad.”</p>
<p>        “Goodness Loki, that was almost a compliment,” I grinned.</p>
<p>        "I assumed American schools' involvement with British history begins and ends with how we lost the colonies to the rebellious revolutionaries," Loki joked. "It is certainly the extent to which the UK schools cover the history of America."</p>
<p>        "You're not wrong." I replied, "but I wanted to be an archeologist when I was kid so I always took an extra interest in stuff like this.”</p>
<p>        “Oh? And what happened to this noble dream?”</p>
<p>        “Reality. Not everyone can afford a fancy Oxford education. Certainly not my family. And there’s not a lot of job opportunities with a History degree. Healthcare professionals meanwhile, are nearly always in short supply. PT brings good money and I didn’t have to get take out a huge student loan to get the certification.”</p>
<p>        “So no regrets then?” he asked.</p>
<p>        <em>Why is he wondering about that at all? Is he looking for ammunition? Is he actually curious? Why?</em></p>
<p>        “No, not really, this sort of job can be pretty draining but also very rewarding.” I said and meant it.</p>
<p>        “Financially or emotionally?” asked Loki shrewdly.</p>
<p>        “If you pick the client right, both.” I smiled.</p>
<p>        “Ah yes, what was it you said the first time we met? You enjoy being paid well for enduring abuse?”</p>
<p>        Finally unable to fight the urge, I turned to face him and get a better look at him. Loki was still sitting at the table, backlit by the warm glow of the kitchen lamps. His chin was resting on the palm of his hand and his eyes were cool and radiant and a little haughty, but mostly amused. You could easily drown in them and not even notice.</p>
<p>        “Well you know what they say,” I said with some humor, just enough to match his. “Do something you enjoy and you’ll never work a day in your life.”</p>
<p>        “Hmm, perhaps I’m not being hard enough on you."</p>
<p>        “Remember, I can always sedate you,” I pointed out and then added with a smile. “Or tie you to the bed.”</p>
<p>        “Don’t start projecting your preferences on me, pet.”</p>
<p>        Oh god, that last part he almost <em>purred</em>.</p>
<p>        Val told me once that Loki gets away with a lot because he’s rich, handsome and charming. And I could see the first two easily but the third I always found puzzling. Loki wasn’t charming. He was an asshole. An attractive asshole. But now I realized, he just didn’t turn it on for me in earnest until this evening. I don’t know why he decided to do so now, but it was devastating, if Loki was a stranger in a bar we wouldn’t even make it home before I got on top of him.</p>
<p>        But we were not in a bar.</p>
<p>        He is my patient.</p>
<p>        This wasn’t right.</p>
<p>         “Dear me, get some decent food in you and suddenly you get all suggestive.” I said as I turned away and forced my eyes to look at my book once again.</p>
<p>         “Probably the wasabi talking,” agreed Loki, his voice mild once again. I saw him push away from the table and stretch with a low growl. He rolled his right shoulder a little, almost automatically and said, "Help me get to the armchair, my back is getting stiff and tired.”</p>
<p>          I got to my feet and helped him make his way to an armchair beside the fireplace with a glass table next to it. When I was transferring his laptop, I noted that most of the sushi was gone; he must have had quite a bit on the sly. I got Loki a glass of water, settled him in and then started to clean the kitchen of all incriminating evidence. I cleared away the plastic fast food containers and put the leftovers in a separate container.</p>
<p>         As I looked at the completely untouched meal Mary prepared, I felt a pang of guilt. I was about to trash a lot of perfectly good, if bland and slightly overcooked, food. After thinking it over I transferred everything to another container, figuring I could have it for dinner sometime. Now and then austere food was good for the soul. </p>
<p>         Looking up, I saw Loki watching me with those bottomless eyes and sighed:</p>
<p>         “Don’t tell Mary okay? She's doing her best under some pretty strict restrictions.  She would be hurt if she knew.”</p>
<p>         “You have my word,” he nodded.</p>
<p>         And that was that. Instinctively I knew he would keep it. I don’t know why.</p>
<p>         After I finished clearing everything away, I took out the trash and took the food containers to the main kitchen fridge. Coming back to the Hospital Wing I caught sight of the wall clock as I settled back down on the couch.</p>
<p>         “You have only another hour to go.” I pointed out.</p>
<p>         “Then stop distracting me.” he shot back without looking up.</p>
<p>         I rolled my eyes, picked up my book and got back to my oddly progressive medieval lord and his unusually well-nourished peasant girl and the accusations of witchcraft that frankly, came out of nowhere in the last third of the plot. I don’t remember falling asleep and I don’t quite know what awoke me, but when I jolted up I saw that Loki had also nodded off. His laptop was closed and laid aside on the glass table, his head was resting in corner made by the high seat of he wingback armchair.</p>
<p>          I glanced at my watch - it was 12:44am. Cursing my stupid self I jumped to my feet and gently shook Loki by the shoulder. He frowned in his sleep, mumbled something and opened his eyes. It took a moment for them to focus.</p>
<p>         “What happened?” he mumbled.</p>
<p>         “We fell asleep,” I hissed. “It’s the middle of the night!”</p>
<p>         “Oh ... I felt a headache coming on ... I was just going to rest a moment.” He mumbled as he rubbed his eyes and blinked at me, I realized he was half asleep still.  </p>
<p>          “Come on, we have to get you into bed.” I sighed.</p>
<p>          He didn’t resist or say anything, just leaned on me the whole way back to his room. I didn’t bother turning on the lights, the window blinds were still open and his whole room was well illuminated by the silver light of the nearly full moon. I got Loki to lie down, straightened out his legs and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Then I covered him with a blanket and turned to leave.</p>
<p>         Loki’s right hand subtly slipped over mine and squeezed my fingers gently. His eyes were closed the whole time; I was not certain how awake he was, how conscious of the gesture. I hesitated for a second; then leaned in, brushed a stray lock of hair away from just above his closed eyes, squeezed his hand in return for just one tiny, stupid moment then let go and made my escape. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Originally, I wrote that Mary's grandchildren had the chicken pox. Then at the last moment I realized Mary would probably not go visit someone contagious while on the job so I had to think of another illness. </p>
<p>You have to Google such weird stuff when you're writing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Books and letters.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Mary returned just after 7am the next day and found me asleep on the couch in the living room as I didn’t bother going back to my room in the middle of the night and anyway with only me and Loki in the house it was better to sleep next to him.</p><p>        Next to the patient’s room.</p><p>        In case he needed something.</p><p>        <em>Goddamit</em>.</p><p>        I operated in a bit of a daze throughout most of the next day, but Loki never mentioned our quiet domestic evening to me or Mary and did not seem too perturbed by it. Of course Loki never seemed perturbed by anything. It was all a front of, but it was a damn good one. This whole thing was, by now, our established pattern; something unusual happens between the two of us and we both react to it in the moment, but then ignore it forever thereafter. For me it was just a way to stay sane and focused on the job. I was prone to anxiety and catastrophizing and the only way to deal with that was not to over-focus or over think things. For my own sanity I tried not to attach excessive meaning to our interactions, what Loki thought about such things I had no idea. I had a decent feel for the kind of person he was in general and probably understood him better than most casual acquaintances, but the man was still a reticent, impenetrable wall.</p><p>        So, I resolved to stay on course, I focused on his rehabilitation and tried really, really hard not to get swallowed up by those eyes with all the color and quality of a stormy sea. Sometimes I think I even succeeded.</p><p>        We were on better terms now. Where as before our conversations could be filed under either "medical instruction" or "caustic sniping", now there was more variety to our interactions. Although we were both still quite guarded we spoke about other things. I told him about how there is a whole series of romance books about a time-traveling Viking that becomes a Navy SEAL and greatly enjoyed his horror-struck reaction to this fact. He told me about the 1960 <em>Crown vs. Penguin Books Ltd</em>. obscenity trial in which the prosecutor asked if <em>Lady Chatterley's Lover</em> was "a book that you would even wish your wife or your servants to read?"</p><p>        I told him about Thomas Bowdler and his sister who republished Shakespeare's plays but cut out all mention of murder or sex so that they could be read to "women and children".  </p><p>        He told me about about a man who decided to introduce to America all the birds mentioned in the works of William Shakespeare and as a result starlings are now an invasive species in the US.</p><p>        We talked about all the books and plays you have to read in school and how you come to dislike them just for that and through no fault of their own. I told him how I never liked reading Dickens for English class because he was paid by the word and it showed. He told me he didn't like Walter Scott for much the same reason. It was nice to chat with him a little about nothing in particular as we worked, it made the time move along quicker.</p><p>        I tried to keep busy in other ways as well, one of the things I took to going in Thor and Val’s absence was keep an eye on the property and their mail. After my work day was concluded and Loki was transferred back into Mary’s care I'd change out of my scrubs and take a walk around the perimeter just to check on everything. Then, as the evening crept up, I would pick up the mail at the gate and take it to Thor’s office where I would sort everything into neat stacks.</p><p>        The Monday after my little sleepover in the Hospital Wing I came back from my usual walk with a large stack of envelopes and flyers. Among the various health magazines and long bank envelopes was a thick yellow parcel addressed to Loki Odinson. The return address was in London, England. It was just around his dinner time, so I made my way to his quarters and found Loki sitting at the long dining room table, frowning at an Excel spreadsheet. Mary was just taking his tray away when I walked in.</p><p>        “How is the patient?” I asked her.</p><p>        “Keeps asking me for sushi, of all things,” Mary sighed in mock exasperation.</p><p>        “Don’t give in!” I replied in much the same tone. “We can’t show weakness. Show him compassion even once and he’ll never stop making demands.”</p><p>        I could see a small twitch of a smile on Loki’s face in my peripheral vision, but as I came closer it disappeared. Leaning on the dinner table and I slid the parcel towards him.</p><p>        “Ah yes,” said Loki after glancing at the return address. “My solicitor finally forwarded me my post.”</p><p>        “Forsooth, I do hope he took the lift to do it,” I smiled.</p><p>        “If you are implying that I use too many British terms, I disagree.” Said Loki as he ripped the top of the parcel paper open with his right hand. With satisfaction I noted that the gesture was automatic and did not seem to give him much pain. “The real issue is that this entire wretched continent uses far too many American ones.” He continued as he tipped it over to let a heap of papers fall out. There were all sorts of envelopes, a few car magazines and flyers. Just as I was about to turn and leave, I heard Loki mumble:</p><p>        “Oh hell.”</p><p>        He said it in a barely audible whisper while holding a small bronze colored envelope. When he opened it a very fancy, embossed card with a lot of fancy script saw the light of day.</p><p>        “Oh dear, is some baron getting married?” I ventured a guess.</p><p>        “Worse,” he said sourly as he flicked the piece of paper away. “Charity dinner.”</p><p>        “What does it matter? You probably were a no-show at a dozen of these things lately.”</p><p>        Loki’s face twisted into a grimace. “Yes but … I am heavily involved in this particular cause. My absence will look very peculiar. There is already a lot of talk in London about where I am and what state I am in. When I miss this thing, there will be hell to pay.”</p><p>        “Send word out to Thor," I offered. "He may come down from the mountain just in time to attend a swanky party and eat all their beluga caviar.”</p><p>        “We are not interchangeable, you know,” said Loki with a scowl. “And believe me, my brother is well known for his hatred of such events. This is why he moved out to America and now spends his days running through the woods and mountains with his darling Valkyrie at his side.”</p><p>        “I believe he also occasionally does go into an office of some sort and works there,” I pointed out dryly.</p><p>        “Occasionally,” Loki conceded casually and leaned back in his chair, still staring at the embossed invitation like it was poison.</p><p>        “When is this thing? Whatever it is,” I asked.</p><p>        “It is a charity gala to raise funds for the refurbishment of the cardiology wing of the Royal London Hospital, taking place on October 28<sup>th</sup> of this year.” Read Loki from the invitation.</p><p>        “You know,” I said, after giving him an appraising look, “you probably could go.”</p><p>        “Woman, I cannot even walk!” He growled. “If I show up in this state, it will look worse than if I do not show up at all.”</p><p>        “You won’t show up in this state,” I pointed out. “It will be close to three months of physio therapy later. With the right drive, right mindset and focus, you could pass for healthy by then.”</p><p>        He looked at me skeptically.</p><p>        “Loki, we’re talking about what? A fancy dinner? In some air-conditioned hall with a lot of comfy chairs? Some event where everyone pats each other on the back, claps and rattles their jewelry? It’s not like you need to go down a mine! You just have to successfully move to and from the place. Hell, if you stumble on your way back, people will simply think you’ve had one too many.” After thinking it over for a moment, I added, "you will probably need new suit. In your current clothes your weight loss shows.”</p><p>        Loki looked past me, to some point on the far wall, and tapped the edge of the embossed invitation on the table in thought for a few seconds as he considered what I said. Then he looked back at me and his features dissolved into a more familiar, mischievous look. “If I do go, you will be my plus one, surely?”</p><p>        I scoffed at that, taking his joke in stride. “Oh sure, I’ve got nothing better to do than to babysit your multiple fractured ass to make sure you don’t drink too much and vomit on the queen.” Then I slapped by forehead with my hand theatrically, as if remembering something. “Aw rats! I forgot! I’ve just loaned my Louboutin’s to a friend. And my Dior gown is scheduled to go into the shop for maintenance. And my Burberry went to save Little Timmy and fell down a well. Oh well, maybe next time.”</p><p>        I laughed, he laughed, we left it at that.</p><p>        “Is there anything I can do to hurry the rehabilitation process?” asked Loki.</p><p>        “Got a bathing suit?”</p><p>        “Certainly not, why?”</p><p>        “We’ll start hydrotherapy tomorrow," I replied. "It would be a little ahead of schedule, but we might as well start a few weeks early and ease into it. Borrow Thor’s or just use a pair of shorts if you have some.”</p><p>        “Very well,” replied Loki with a nod.</p><p>        “This will be in addition to your already quite demanding regime,” I warned. “For the first few weeks you will feel much more tired as a result.”</p><p>        Loki shrugged and then suddenly gave me that slight vulpine smile, “But at least I will get to see you in a bikini.”</p><p>        “Prepare to be disappointed” I said as I rolled my eyes and walked away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sandra Hill writes romance books about a time traveling viking that becomes an Navy SEAL. It's a whole series. I've never read them myself but apparently they are great fun.</p><p>Eugene Schieffelin introduced starlings to the US for no good reason and seriously damaged the ecosystem.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Fish and Guests.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        “I can see what you meant by <em>disappointed</em>,” said Loki as I pulled off my scrubs in the warm, echo-y enclosed space of the pool area. He was sitting on the edge of the pool itself, his long pale legs submerged into the water. It was a hot day and many of the large windows were opened to let a breeze travel through the place.</p><p>        I smiled at his words smugly as I folded and put my clothes to the side. Hydrotherapy, by it's very nature, required me to wear a bathing suit on the job, so I purposefully found one online that was a one-piece affair with a zipper front, long sleeves and shorts-like bottoms. It was originally made for female surfers. Or peasant nuns. Or possibly Victorian ladies of good prospects on the hunt for a husband. My mother would still probably not approve of in though. </p><p>        “Well, what did you think I would wear? I'm a professional!” I said proudly.</p><p>        Just then Loki awkwardly pulled off his own t-shirt and my heart nearly shot out of my mouth.</p><p>        <em>Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.</em></p><p>        He had far less bandages on now. There was still tight physio binding around his upper torso, collarbone and right shoulder but great swaths of skin and lean muscle from just below the chest to the hem of his loose swim shorts were visible and immediately captured my attention.</p><p>        “Your bruising is healing up nicely,” I said in the best, most businesslike voice i could manage as I forced my eyes to look away. To play it safe I got into the pool quickly. The slightly cold water set my teeth on edge and made my breath hitch but I forced myself to keep talking. “By October it should be mostly gone and you won't need a lot of bandages, just the physio tape and a brace for the collarbone and shoulder. Those you should keep wearing constantly, right through to Christmas. And in the new year you should keep using them if you are going to do anything strenuous.”</p><p>        “How strenuous?” There was a slight note of suggestion in his voice, but I pretended not to notice it. The last thing I needed while standing somewhat disrobed in a pool with a topless Loki is to start some kind of Flirt-a-thon. </p><p>         He needed his fun, but at that moment it was just a little more than I could stand. </p><p>        “Running, climbing, swimming,” my reply came while I was clipping an exercise pulley to the metal bar of the deep-end pool ladder. “Lifting things, particularly if it is above chest level.”</p><p>        Gathering the last shreds of my professionalism and turned back towards Loki. His blue-green eyes watched me intently. Everything around us was just a little blue and a little green. The glass panels of the many windows, the tiles at the bottom of the pool and on the floor, the painted white walls, all reflected and refracted the water in a way that gave the whole area a very aquarium feel. I felt surrounded by water, but not smothered. It was serene here.  </p><p>        “Lowering you into the water is going to be tricky,” I said, my brain still very much on the clock despite all the splendid distractions. “Getting you out will be even worse. When the body weight you’ve just ignored for an hour comes back it can be overwhelming on the limbs. We’ll go in slow at first, so that your body can adjust.”</p><p>        Swimming up closer to him, I saw his face twist into a grin and realized the other implication of my last statement. </p><p>        “Don’t start,” I warned. “This is serious. If you drown on my watch, I’ll never be able to afford that vacation I never take. Now use your left hand to grip that railing and pull yourself towards the first step down. I’ll spot you, when you get there just sit for a bit and get used to the water temperature.”</p><p>        To my surprise, Loki behaved and the session went very well. I had half expected him to be difficult just because we were starting something new but I did not give him enough credit. Perhaps he understood the inherent risks associated with being careless in his state of health in a pool full of water. Perhaps he was more intent of rehabilitation now that he had a more definitive end goal in mind. Or perhaps he ate something particularly not to his liking and was still digesting it funny. Who really knew with him?</p><p>        Although he got into the pool just fine, to get him up and out of it and into the wheelchair required Mary's help. Loki was still not steady on his feet and I was very worried he might slip on the wet tile floor. During the next two weeks a lot of progress was made. In the end Loki really took to hydro therapy, he later told me he used to swim laps several times a week before his accident and it showed. He was comfortable in water and with the added incentive to get better he made excellent headway. But the new regime also really wore him out, although, being Loki and therefore difficult, he would rather die than admit any such thing. He slept more during his rest time and his appetite increased, although he still pretty clearly didn’t like the food.</p><p>        Outside, fall started to creep in. Daylight noticeably diminished in the evenings and the leaves of forest trees began to get just a hint of red in them. The weather started to turn away from summer heat and I started wearing a jacket on my evening perimeter walks. September days were still warm and sunny, but in the evening the wind would often pick up and it got quite chilly. By then I had settled into a bit of a routine with my walk; leaving the house through a side door I would walk along the edge of the forest all the way to the far end of the property. There was a path there that led through the woods to a ravine, at the bottom of which was a river stream. The winding trail then turned and led along the top of the ravine until it came to a clearing on the opposite end of which was a long line of carefully planted firs that marked the border between Thor and Val’s property and that of their neighbors, who owned a big colonial style home with a giant outdoor pool. I would walk along this border until I came to the wide-open stretch of the front lawn. From there I would go to the front gates, check on the security system and pick up the mail, then head back into the house to sort it.  </p><p>        One evening, in mid September, as I was coming down to the gates, I saw a taxi parked by the entrance and a figure hovering by the intercom system. With me out of the house they would not be getting any reply. Loki and Mary were in the Hospital Wing and that section of the house was not hooked up to it. However, the person at the gate was not giving up. Coming closer I saw that it was a woman in her 20s. She wore a good deal of well-tailored Ralph Lauren and had one of those Hermes scarves that I even if I could afford I would never know how to wear. When she looked up and saw me, she waved her hand at me impatiently and imperially and I immediately knew we were not going to be friends.</p><p>        “Pardon me, but I’ve been standing here for ages! I need to speak to the owners of this house." She spoke with a British accent.</p><p><em>        Curious</em>.</p><p>        “They’re currently half-way up a mountain, you’re wasting your time.” I said without looking up at her as I unlocked the metal mailbox embedded in the gate and got out the stack of mail, taking care not to look particularly in a hurry.</p><p>        “You are certainly very lippy. Are you on staff here?” She pointed out, her arms crossing at her chest.</p><p>        “Shouldn't the fact that I'm lippy indicate to you that I am not?"</p><p>        “It doesn’t matter, who is currently in? I am looking for Loki Odinson, he must be here, I need to speak with him.”</p><p>        I flipped through the mail in my hands for a few seconds before saying casually, “He’s not seeing guests at the moment.”</p><p>        “What’s wrong with him?” she pounced.</p><p>        "He’s suffering from extreme ennui,” I said blithely. “It’s highly contagious, look at me, I’ve already succumbed. You need to flee before it’s too late.”</p><p>        “Are you attempting to be funny?”</p><p>        “And have been my whole life.” I sighed, finally looked up and took her in properly.</p><p>        She must have been closer to 30 but appeared younger because of her very petite figure and her features, which were all on the girlish side. She had a heart shaped face and plenty of well-kept and well-coiffed light brown hair that framed it well. Her eyes were shrewd and impatient and hazel.</p><p>        “Who should I say is calling?” I inquired.</p><p>        “Elizabeth Narracott,” she said with a very theatrical, exasperated sigh. “For God’s sake, he knows me! We know each other very well!”</p><p>        I paused and dragged it out, as if considering, purely to annoy someone who I suspected annoyed easily. “Hang tight, I’ll go ask.” I said finally, then turned around and walked away from the gate and towards the house, again careful not to appear in too much of a hurry.</p><p>        A little pettiness is good for the soul too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The chapter title comes from the 16th century saying penned by John Lyly:<br/>"Fish and guests in three days are stale."</p><p>Later Benjamin Franklin reworked it into a better known saying:<br/>“Fish and visitors stink in three days”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Change of Engagement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Coming into the Hospital Wing living room, I saw Loki sitting in the armchair by the fireplace with a book in his hands that he wasn’t reading. In addition to our usual exercises he insisted on five laps in the pool today. I talked him down to three, but still, I was fairly certain he was half-way to nodding off and it broke my heart to have to tell him what was almost certainly bad news.</p><p>        “You have a visitor at the front gate,” I said, not wishing to draw out things needlessly. “Do you know an Elizabeth Narracott?”</p><p>        Loki’s entire body tensed up, all in one go. “Yes,” he said, “you just left her out on the street?”</p><p>        “She wants to talk to you and she’s not in the best mood, but that may be because I was an ass to her but, in my defense, she was an ass to me first," I shrugged.</p><p>        A twitch of a smile tugged at the corner of Loki’s mouth. I was starting to get quite fond of that little tic.</p><p>        “I suppose it was inevitable that someone would trek out here to see if I am alive," said Loki with a sigh, "I am surprised it was her though.”</p><p>        “Should I just tell her to take a hike?” I offered.</p><p>        Loki smiled.</p><p>        “Tempting, very tempting, however I am interested to know why she is here at all.” He glanced down at the flannel green pajama pants he was wearing. “I need to change into something less … convalescent.”</p><p>        Mary and I gave him a hand with that. It was the first time I’ve seen Loki in anything other than recovering patient garb. We removed the hard-plastic braces from his legs and managed to get him into a pair of dark grey jeans. A better fitting plain navy t-shirt went overtop his binding and bandages. Finally, Loki shrugged on a Café racer jacket made of fine supple dark leather with forest green piping at the cuffs and the tall collar. It suited him exceedingly and with it on you could hardly tell that his clothing was slightly loose on him.</p><p>        “Indoors, the jacket will look a bit much.” I cautioned Loki while tying his brown suede shoes.</p><p>        “I will see her in the courtyard. There is no reason for her to linger in the house.” His voice was cool and detached, his eyes became hard and a little mean. It was the mask from before, from when we first met and he slipped it on with such ease it was slightly startling. As Mary and I helped him into the wheelchair he glanced at me and said curtly, “Do not let her wander about, I do not trust her.”</p><p>        I nodded and got to my feet.</p><p>        Mary agreed to take Loki to the courtyard as I made my way back to the front gates. Since I took my time when I got back out there it was close to 20 minuets later and Elizabeth Narracott was seething. She then became completely apoplectic when I only opened the small gate with the security passcode and gestured her in.</p><p>        “Really? You’re not going to let the driver park his car in the driveway?” she snapped.</p><p>        “The road’s got wide shoulders, it'll be fine,” I shrugged. “If you don’t want to come in, you’re free to be on your way.”</p><p>        She fumed past me, clearly wishing to fast walk and get to the house first, but I was far taller and had a pretty good stride so she never quite managed it. As I led her through the living room area and deeper into the house, I saw her eyes darting about, taking in the surrounding details.</p><p>        “Where are the owners?” She finally asked as we rounded the corner.</p><p>        “I told you, up a mountain,” I replied coolly. “They should be back sometime in November”</p><p>        Before she could ask any follow-up questions, we reached the part of the hallway with the glass wall which overlooked the courtyard. By this point the sun has not yet set, but dusk was approaching. In the slightly low evening light Loki was sitting on the wooden bench under a cluster of red maples and appeared to be deeply engrossed in his book. I rapped my knuckles on the glass to let him know we're here and pointed out to Elizabeth Narracott the large set of doors which were propped open to let in the evening breeze before walking on towards the gym.  </p><p>        For about seven steps.</p><p>        I had no intention of leaving the two of them to have a private conversation. Loki didn’t trust her and if she decided to suddenly crack his head open with a sundial, I would at least be there to try and dissuade her of the idea. For all of Loki's relatively normal, if a little wan, outward appearance he was still quite injured. So I leaned against the solid brick wall just next to the open courtyard entrance. It was a quiet and still evening and I could hear everything being said. Additionally, there was a large mirror on the opposite hall wall, in it I could just barely see the top of Loki’s head but I had a good view of Elizabeth Narracott’s back.</p><p>        There was a sound of a book being snapped shut.</p><p>        “Lisa,” said Loki in an even, neutral and perfectly dangerous tone. “This is a surprise. During our last interaction you told me to shove broken glass up my ass. If you came to check on the progress of that suggestion, I fear you will be disappointed.”</p><p>        “My Lord, Loki, I spoke in anger, you must know that!” Her voice was suddenly a lot less antagonistic. “I’m just so relieved! You should hear the rumors that are flying about you in London! What on earth happened?”</p><p>        “Bit of a car accident.” Loki’s voice remained detached and bored.</p><p>        “Were you hurt?”</p><p>        “Some,” he paused for a second and then asked, “Lisa, why are you here?”</p><p>        “I was worried!” She snapped, suddenly on the offense. “Is that so unusual?”</p><p>        “Yes,” Loki replied frankly. “We broke up several months before the accident. If you were concerned, an e-mail or a phone call would have sufficed.”</p><p>        “Oh come now, the fight was over a silly mistake on my part, you know it was! You caught me off guard and I blinked, does that really matter at this point? And why are you even here? Where is your brother and his wife?”</p><p>        “They are on a trip to Nepal, climbing some sort of a mountain for some sort of a TV show. I am helping a friend of theirs look after the house in the meantime.”</p><p>        “Oh, so that’s what that girl meant.” Said Lisa absentmindedly, “I just thought she was being difficult.”</p><p>        “No doubt she was, but the point stands.”</p><p>        “Well anyway, this place is fine without you!" She said, this time with and airy cheer, "Come back to England with me, I found a great cottage in Devon to get some writing done, if you’re still recovering, we can live there for a bit.”</p><p>
  <em>        She cycles through more moods in one conversation than I do in six months. </em>
</p><p>        “So you want us to resume our relationship?” asked Loki. Mildly. Too mildly. It was like he was asking if he could have toast with butter for breakfast. </p><p>        “Good Lord, you’re as stubborn as ever! You want me to say it, then fine, I’ll say it! Of course I do, I love you, you know that!”</p><p>        “And our engagement? You wish to resume that as well?”</p><p>
  <em>        Oh Holy Christ, they were engaged? </em>
</p><p>        “Yes, yes, of course!" voice eager now and maybe a little pleading. "We make such a good team! We can’t let one fight over nothing spoil everything!”</p><p>        Silence reigned for a few heavy, tense moments.</p><p>        Then Loki got to his feet.</p><p>
  <em>        He got to his feet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        By himself. </em>
</p><p>        And in doing so he towered over Lisa Narracott, anger suddenly radiating from him like an aura. In the mirror I could see his face clearly and although his features remained smooth and calm his eyes gleamed with sudden furious fire. </p><p>        “The fight,” he hissed dangerously, “was <em>not</em> over nothing. You were perfectly ready, and very eager, to marry me until you found out I was not my father’s biological son. At which point, you suddenly balked and said you needed time to deal with this fact. My brother never needed time to deal with the fact that we are not related by blood. His opinion of me did not change, the sentimental fool loves me just as he has always done. His wife despises me, she has always despised me and her opinion of me did not change when the fact of my parentage was revealed to her.</p><p>        But you <em>needed time</em>.</p><p>        Because as soon as you learned about the circumstances of my birth your opinion of me changed and I suspect, strongly suspect, it was because you thought my brother or sister would contest the contents of my father's will. As I am certain you would, if you were ever in a similar position. It is very much in you to argue and arbiter to get a bigger slice of the pie.</p><p>         But Hela is incapable of caring about family matters in general and Thor is too much of a loyal idiot to even conceive such a course of action. At which point, you must have realized you made a mistake, but because of my accident Thor whisked me off to America and you could not make your overtures to me immediately. So you waited, and waited, and waited, but your money must have started to run out and your book deal did not get picked up in the UK and I suspect it did not get picked up out here either. You did not come to the US for me, you came here because you wanted to talk Random House out of dropping you and I suspect you failed, as you have a history of blowing through advances but not submitting anything substantial. You have not seriously written anything in the last five years. Coincidentally, this just happens to be the exact amount of time you and I have been living together. I doubt sincerely your sudden desire for a cottage in Devonshire, that type of life does not appeal to you at all. Are you fleeing creditors? Or is that that you simply cannot afford living in London anymore?”</p><p>        A tense pause lingered over the courtyard.</p><p>        “How …” the voice was shaking and then it faltered.</p><p>        “How dare I?” Loki aided her in her choice of words nonchalantly. “Go on then, tell me which part of that was wrong.”</p><p>        I could not see Lisa Narracott’s face and no reply came, but her shoulders were squared and her hands were clenched into fists.</p><p>        “You should go,” Loki continued, his voice suddenly disinterested and a little tired. “I do not believe there is anything left to say. It is true that we made a good team and that we had a good relationship once. In memory of those good times, I wish you luck. You have considerable writing skills. Now that there is a need you may find yourself inspired once more.”</p><p>        “Oh, you smug, patronizing bastard!” She hissed and took a step towards him.  </p><p>        I took that to be my cue to enter the fray. Walking through the entrance I leaned on the door frame and said, “Miss Narracott?”</p><p>        She jumped in surprise and whipped around to face me. </p><p>        “It’s getting late and your taxi is still waiting for you,” I said. “I can see you out, if your business has been concluded.”</p><p>        “Were you eavesdropping on us?” Lisa Narracott’s outraged voice rose to a screech.</p><p>        “Yes.” I replied simply. “The exit is this way.”</p><p>        I desperately wanted to get her away from this place because I could see Loki was listing. He needed to sit down now and lie down yesterday. I glanced at him and for just a second our eyes met and he gave me a tiny nod. His face continued to betray very little, but the gesture was just enough to let me know he felt well enough to be left alone for a time.</p><p>        Lisa Narracott took a good look at me, possibly for the first time, then glanced back at Loki and then finally, wordlessly, walked past me out of the courtyard and back into the house. In silence I followed her, staying just a few steps behind. As we made it beyond the hallway with the glass wall there was a moment when Loki was no longer in her field of vision but he was still in mine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his legs give out and he all but collapsed back onto the bench, using his hands to cushion the impact slightly. A wave of agony contorted the features of his impassive face and I forced my legs to keep walking at the same pace and in the same direction away from him.  </p><p>        <em>We’ll do an easier set tomorrow. </em>I thought stupidly as we walked back to the front gates.</p><p>        Lisa Narracott was silent the entire time, but as we crossed the front driveway, she turned to me and asked, “What is it exactly you are doing here for the Odinson family?" her voice was laced with skepticism.</p><p>        “Oh you know,” I replied with a shrug, “watering their pets, feeding their plants, walking their mail.”</p><p>        I punched in the security code and swung the door open. Lisa Narracott gave me one last, ugly, look and disappeared into the night. Walking back up to the house, I heard her taxi start up and drive off. Quickly I went through the front door, locked it and bolted it shut. After putting the alarm back on I pretty much ran back to the courtyard to check on Loki. He was still sitting where I left him. It was truly dusk now and the garden was plunged in semi darkness. The bright hallway lamps projected squares of yellow light onto the grass and the trees outside and above us the still not-quite-dark sky was tinted with the last remnants of the setting sun.</p><p>        “Jesus Christ,” I breathed as I rushed to Loki. “Are you all right? How did you even manage that?”</p><p>        “Don’t fuss.” He said and his voice sounded tired, “I'm fine.”</p><p>        “Did it hurt to stand?”</p><p>        “Yes.”</p><p>        “Are you hurting now?”</p><p>        “Some.” He said and then after a moment admitted, “yes, but not too bad.”</p><p>        “You need to lie down,” I said. “We need to make sure there’s no swelling.”</p><p>         Having retrieved the wheelchair from the corner Mary squirreled it away to, I went to help Loki get into it. My hand reached under his jacket and around his waist for a better grip. His left arm went around my shoulders for support and then lingered there, even after he was once again on his feet. His right hand rested lightly on my other arm, just above the elbow. We stood like that for a moment - in the dim light I could see the tense line of his jaw, delicate curve of the neck and pronounced Adam's apple. I didn't dare to look up, instead Loki lowered his head and I felt his lips, soft and warm, at my temple, just above the brow.</p><p>        It was not a hug and it was not a kiss. I didn’t know what to call it, but I knew it was a thank-you. I closed my eyes and took in his peculiar cold warmth. A blessed three, four, five seconds went by, then Loki shifted his weight and with me directing him, slipped into the wheelchair.</p><p>        We made our way back to his room in silence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Regarding Chapter title:<br/>In fencing, the term "Change of Engagement" describes a fencer changing the direction of an attack to gain an advantage and fool the opponent. </p><p>The clothing choice on Loki in this chapter is a minor homage to Jonathan Pine's motorcycle getup in "The Night Manager". </p><p>A personal favorite:<br/></p><p>I find it funny that the prop department for the show got Tom Hiddleston's character a motorcycle with a green-and-gold finish. Probably a coincidence?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Carrot and stick.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Loki’s right leg slightly swelled at the thigh overnight and he relatively easily acquiesced to an easier workout the next day. The swelling went down after a few days and on the whole he handled the sudden strain well, though I was not about to start pushing the injury any further.</p>
<p>        As September went on the summer heat gradually got replaced by the cool breeze of early autumn. The leaves had begun to turn in earnest and you could smell the change of seasons in the air. At the end of the month I got an e-mail from Thor. We've been exchanging short check-in messages throughout their trip but this one was far longer and came with a half a dozen attached high quality photos that nearly crashed my cheap phone. On the images a scruffy Thor and still very much put together Val did Yoga, befriend adorable dogs, drank herbal tea and ate delicious looking food. The letter detailed how they both had recently finished their training would begin their slow ascent in a few days. As it was not certain for how long Thor would have access to good internet or even phone connection from that point onward he forwarded me several in-case-of-emergency phone numbers in Nepal.</p>
<p>        I sent Thor a reply with a detailed update on Loki’s condition, including an attached photo of him moving about in the gym. After recovering from the excessive strain made during Elizabeth’s visit Loki took to moving around by himself more. He didn't venture outside but did start spending more of his free time in the courtyard and although he still needed to brace himself against walls and furniture he used a wheelchair far less now. At first he used a crutch to get by but it clearly annoyed him so I went online and got him an honest-to-God walking stick. Not a cane for the elderly and the injured made of light carbon fiber with an easy-grip crooked handle, as would have definitely been more sensible, but one made of wood and lacquered jet black with a wide filigreed brass knob. It was not the most practical thing to aid a recovering patient but it immediately appealed to the poorly concealed utter dandy that Loki clearly was. </p>
<p>        "Why darling, whatever is the occasion?" he smiled as he twirled the stick between his long, now far more nimble fingers.</p>
<p>        "It has been three months, almost to the day, since you first were a complete jerk to me." I said with a put-on sweet tone, "Oh how time flies! But more importantly, I feel like if you glare at the crutch any harder it will actually burst into flames. It's too early for you to move about without additional support. This is not a perfect solution, but it will have to do and as an added bonus you can keep it and crack the shins and sculls of peasants to keep them in line when you get back to London for good."</p>
<p>        "Oh one time I did that, must it follow me to the grave?" Loki said as he shakily got to his feet, his tone dryer than the turkey he was about to be served for dinner.</p>
<p>        "It alarms me that I'm no longer certain you're kidding or not," I grumbled as I took the stick back and showed him how to lean on it properly. "Like so, not on the mound of Venus, which maybe seems intuitive but more here at the base of the palm."</p>
<p>        "Mound of Venus?" Loki's eyebrows shot up so high they threatened to leave his head altogether and join the mounted ceiling lights.</p>
<p>        "Or the thenar eminence, if you prefer the actual technical term, although that mostly sounds like some archaic way to address the Pope." I took his overturned palm into mine and pointed to the fleshy part of the hand underneath the thumb. "Granted, <em>Mound of Venus</em> is a palmistry term, but it's one people are more familiar with. Point is, don't exert pressure on this area or anywhere close to the knuckles. You hands are still healing, even if they've not been giving you as much trouble lately. And mostly lean with your less injured hand, obviously."</p>
<p>        "Obviously."</p>
<p>        His hand was still in mine. There were plenty of reasons to let go of it. Really good ones. And yet I didn't.</p>
<p>        "This was not a cheap purchase," said Loki, looking me with a strange, delicate expression. "I feel like I owe you something for it."</p>
<p>        "I'll bill your brother for it," I replied easily.</p>
<p>        "A gift that keeps on giving then," he chucked. It was just a chuckle and yet it felt like someone ran a feather down my spine. Or maybe a Wartenberg wheel.</p>
<p>        This splendid, delicate reverie was utterly shattered by the sound of the storage door closing and soon Mary appeared in the kitchen with what looked to be a can of peaches. "Oh hello dear, I didn't hear you come in, is everything alright?"</p>
<p>        "Yes," I said in what I was hoping was a neutral tone. "Just passing by, giving the patient some new equipment and instructions to go along with it."</p>
<p>        "Oh how nice!" twittered Mary as she moved about in the kitchen. I was too distracted to see what she was doing because I was too busy watching Loki watch me. "A little heavy maybe but then again Mr. Odinson is doing so much better these days! And it's very gentlemanly, that's what my grandmother used to say."</p>
<p>        "If you're wondering what decade you're stuck in, that should give you a good idea," I grinned at Loki.</p>
<p>        "I am decidedly out of practice with the keeping of peasants in line, could you just stand over there?" He replied mildly.</p>
<p>        I reached out and ran a finger along the lacquered length of the cane then flicked the tip and said "Don't play with your stick too hard now, it's bad for the wrist."</p>
<p>        "Mmm, I could also go blind."</p>
<p>        Laughing, I walked away.</p>
<p>        By October Loki was walking quite well though never for very long. His knees were still in a precarious state and his collarbone was still giving him trouble, particularly after swimming, which he refused to give up. The shoulder was so-so, trending towards good. Hands were nearly entirely recovered. He still got headaches and was still had bruises but they were now a sickly yellow-brown color. As we got closer and closer to the month of October, even Loki was starting to believe he might be able to pull off the dinner in London. He was now discussing the trip in much more certain terms and making concrete plans such as booking the flight.</p>
<p>        We were in the pool one day when Loki told me that our session tomorrow will need to start later as he will be going to a tailor in the city to get measured for a suit. When I asked if he needed me or Mary to come along, he declined, citing minimal exertion required and the fact that he will be driven to and from by a hired car. I didn’t argue with him on this as I felt letting Loki have moments of independence did him a lot of good and in this case, it was unlikely he would get himself in trouble. As I corrected his posture slightly during a stretch, he pointed out casually:</p>
<p>        “Of course, as my plus one, you will probably want to know ahead of time what I am wearing to the blasted thing so that we can match.”</p>
<p>        “Loki,” I laughed as I stepped back and watched him go through the exercise. “I’m not going with you. As I mentioned before, I’m between ludicrously expensive formal gowns at the moment.”</p>
<p>        “Borrow one from Valkyrie’s closet," he shrugged. "She probably has lots.”</p>
<p>        “Absolutely not!” I said sternly. “For one thing, it’s absolutely unprofessional to raid your employer’s closet. But also, she’s a foot shorter than I am! And I’m about six hundred thousand crunches short of her figure!”</p>
<p>        “Oh dearest, do not tell me you suffer from poor self-esteem issues!” he said, grinning like a snake.</p>
<p>        "Pffff, no!” I scoffed, “Look at me, I’m a freaking legacy! Valerie North however, is a woman who literally spent her whole life pushing her body to peak of physical perfection. Realism is not a flaw.”</p>
<p>        “No darling, in your case it appears to be a way of life," sighed Loki ruefully.</p>
<p>        We worked in silence after that and until it was time for the break period. Then, while I was setting up for the next set of exercises, Loki sat on the steps leading into the water and rested. After finishing my preparations I joined him and passed him a water bottle. We sat side-by-side as Loki drank and then fiddled with the plastic cap for a time, finally he glanced up at me and thoughtfully said without much preamble:</p>
<p>        “Come to London with me.”</p>
<p>        “Loki,” I groaned as I slipped back into the water, turned and rested my arms on the cool tile of the floor. “This isn’t funny anymore.”</p>
<p>        “I am not much kidding,” he answered. “I am not doing too badly and I have a fairly good idea of what my limits are, but I am about to travel half-way across the world. What if something happens and medical advice or assistance is needed?”</p>
<p>        “Call me on my cell?” I said unconvincingly.</p>
<p>        He gave me a withering stare. “I am right, you know I am. You and Mary are the only people who know my medical history. Perhaps I should ask her to come with me?”</p>
<p>        I groaned, pushed away from the pool and floated backwards for a few moments. “I hate you,” I mumbled with a sigh.</p>
<p>        Of course Loki was right, putting him on a plane and then eating junk food and binge watching stuff on Netflix that whole weekend would be irresponsible. He was still in recovery and I was the one who convinced him he could make the trip, it only made sense that I should go with him to keep an eye out for trouble. In any other set of circumstances, if the patient was willing to cover the cost of travel, I would not think twice about coming along. I was only resisting the idea because it was <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>        A weekend away with Loki. A weekend away with a patient I found very handsome and was sexually attracted to and even kind of emotionally drawn. It would be downright torture, but the alternative was unacceptable. He shouldn’t be going alone and I didn't have the heart to ask Mary to fill in. She’s on cloud nine at the prospect of spending the weekend with her family.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. </em>
</p>
<p>        At some point I realized I wasn’t thinking that last part, I was saying it aloud and it was echoing back at me from the glass ceiling above the pool. Sighing, I took a deep breath, sank to the bottom and then stood up while pushing water out of my face. The whole time Loki was watching me with a terrifically amused expression on his face.</p>
<p>        “Fine,” I sighed, swimming back towards him. “Have it your way, but I’m going to send word to Thor about this and he may not want to cover that expense. If that happens, you’ll be out an extra plane ticket and the cost of my stay.”</p>
<p>        “I will find a way to squeeze it into the budget,” Loki’s voice was drier than the Sahara.</p>
<p>        “Yea, you poor thing, I bet you’ll really have to rearrange your bill payments for this! Rich people, I swear,” I grumbled. “What are you grinning at? Come on, let’s get back to work!”</p>
<p>        Looking very pleased and satisfied, Loki pushed away from the edge of the pool and joined me in the deep end. That night I sent an e-mail to Thor but got no reply, the calls I made to his cell went directly to voicemail so it was likely that the group and film crew got to an area with very limited reception. Having established that I was more or less on my own I flopped onto the bed face first and groaned. It’s all fine and well until you really think about what I agreed to.</p>
<p><em>        Loki</em>.</p>
<p>        I would be with him almost the entire length of the trip. I would be staying in a guest room of his apartment. I would be eating meals with him. Helping him get dressed. Passing him the salt. Straightening his tie. Casual things. Domestic things. The sort of things I’ve been avoiding for years.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Ever since the thing with Craig...</em>
</p>
<p>        Heaving a sigh I flopped onto my back. Realistically, I could manage fine when Loki was in various states of undress. He was extraordinarily good looking and fit and the various exercises we’ve been doing have only improved his physique, but that’s all surface stuff. I knew I could wrangle my libido under control in such situations. I’ve been doing it for months now and I’ve gotten good at it. But traveling with Loki also meant getting to know him better. It meant seeing his home, learning his habits, seeing a thousand casual, little things that made him who he is. It was always possible that I could learn something about him on this trip that would help me get over my crush, but knowing my luck this was unlikely, especially when you consider the dozen small gestures, tics and unconscious habits of his that I already knew of and found endearing.</p>
<p>
  <em>        The corner of his mouth wrestling with a grin at something amusing. His nose faintly wrinkling in mock distaste at some heathen American term or action of mine. His jawline hardening as he fights through a moment of pain. His long fingers pulling on his earlobe as he thinks something over. His chin resting between his upturned thumb and curled index finger while he’s looking at the screen.  </em>
</p>
<p>        My groan turned into something deeper, more feral, more frustrated and desperate. That list was rapidly becoming an excellent tally of all the things one could theoretically kiss in a fit of passion. This attraction was getting out of hand. I was at once terrified and giddy at the prospect of spending time with Loki. It was ridiculous, like being in high school all over again; getting partnered up with a cute guy who barely registers your existence. Loki, no doubt, had a million other things on his mind. Hopefully that meant that my attraction can fly under the radar. I sat up on the bed and looked at my own disheveled reflection in the mirror.</p>
<p>        “You are not going to the dinner with him,” I said aloud to myself. “You’re just not. Don’t even think of packing your little black dress in that suitcase. It’s not going to happen.”</p>
<p>        To distract myself from all kinds of bad, improper thoughts I made a list of everything I would need on a three-day trip and it all was back in my apartment. The dinner was on a Saturday evening three weeks from now. The plan was that I would lock everything up and Loki and I would leave the house Friday afternoon and fly out later that evening. Mary was going to leave sometime mid-day, right before us. Our arrival in London would be very early Saturday morning leaving Loki with most of Saturday to rest and get ready. He would recuperate on Sunday and we would fly back later that night and be back at the house Monday morning. I got to my feet and went in search of Mary to let her know I would need an afternoon at some point to go home and pack a suitcase. I found her in Loki’s room, putting away some of the medical equipment we were no longer using.</p>
<p>        “I was just thinking,” she said as she saw me come in. “Once Mr. Odinson and his wife return, I will recommend getting rid of the hospital bed as well. I’m assuming there was a regular bed in here at some point. I think it would be fine to put it back in, he really doesn’t need the medical setup anymore.”</p>
<p>        “I agree” I said, as I gave her a hand packing up the traction equipment. “He barely uses it’s functions now and it’s not particularly comfortable.”</p>
<p>        As I helped her collapse the IV stand, I explained that I will be going to London with Loki and would need an afternoon off to pack. When she heard the news Mary considered me somewhat gravely. “Is that a problem for you?” I asked.</p>
<p>        “Oh no, no, I don’t think so. I just wondered …” she lowered her voice. “Are you quite all right going with him? By yourself? After all, it doesn’t feel like he gave you much choice in the matter.”</p>
<p>        “I get where he is coming from,” I replied. “I’ll feel better if I’m there keeping an eye on him. If he's careless and falls or even pushes himself too hard, that will be four very good months of rehab down the drain.”</p>
<p>        “True,” Mary conceded and then gave me a very motherly kind of look, “but are you comfortable with this? He can be a bit … rude.”</p>
<p>        I understood what she was getting at and she was right to be wary as every nurse had plenty of stories about patients that got grabby. It was a known, if unfortunate, part of this job. However, although he could be an absolute asshole, I was fairly certain this was a boundary Loki would not overstep. The closest he ever got was on that first day.</p>
<p>        “He can,” I agreed, vividly remembering his hand around my waist. “But we are on relatively good terms now and I trust him well enough in that regard. Besides, if he tries anything I know exactly where he’s the most hurt and I always have a can of mace with me.” After a small pause I added very sincerely, “Thank-you though, I really appreciate your concern.”</p>
<p>        “Oh my dear,” Mary’s smile was kind and reassuring. “We must stick together you know, and I’ve grown terribly fond of you.”</p>
<p>        We exchanged a good friendly hug. Mary was good people; she was all right.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Please remain calm.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        What does one pack for a transatlantic trip to a large metropolitan city with a British bajillionaire?</p><p>        One that, for instance, you are attracted to but are unwilling to act upon for reasons of professional ethics and also a complete lack of desire to get laughed at. Loki could be vicious even when we were just sniping back and forth and that was fine because I always gave as bad as I got. There was an odd kind of equality between our interactions that I could always count on, but if he caught wind of my attraction to him he would absolutely rip me apart and my heart wasn't up for it.</p><p>        So in such a case, how does one straddle the line between professional and casual?</p><p>        <em>Mmm … straddle …</em></p><p>Frustration at my stupid self bubbled up inside me, so much so that I was tempted to throw the glass of water I was holding at the nearest wall.</p><p>
  <em>        Dammit. Focus, you idiot!</em>
</p><p>        It was already Wednesday, October 25<sup>th</sup> and the date snuck up on me appallingly quickly. When I initially agreed to go the whole thing seemed ages away, but the month raced by without an incident and before I knew it, I was rummaging around the drawers of the desk in my New York apartment looking for my passport.</p><p>        “Thank God for Nat and her all girl’s trip to Mexico,” I muttered pulling it from underneath a stack of tax forms.</p><p>        Since I very rarely travel out of the country it was by no means a sure thing that I had a passport at all, a point I had to explain at length to Loki who, like all people living on the European continent, sometimes popped into another country for a cup of sugar. Or, in Loki's case, because he was bored and apparently the coffee, pastries and bookshops in Vienna are just better. That particular conversation inevitably lead us down the dark, dark path of how the European Union works and the politics of Brexit, which was hopelessly complicated but didn't go as bad as I thought it would. It is a firm policy of mine to never, ever to discuss politics with patients for pretty obvious reasons but it went okay in the end. At this point I was pretty certain Loki and I could talk about anything.</p><p>        Getting my papers in order calmed me down a little and as I went back to packing I set aside some quite nice but decidedly neutral underthings and sleeping clothes, a few pairs of jeans, work-out clothes, one classy pencil skirt and some nice blouses and tops. Everything came from a brand name label. Being a fan of fashion, I’ve splurged on a few really nice things over the years and at last my consumerist weaknesses paid off. After all, Loki’s place apparently had a doorman, if I showed up in Costco pants, they might tell me to go sweep the chimneys.   </p><p>        After a prolonged and exhaustive debate with myself on whether or not to call my mother and tell her about the trip I finally decided against it. I was really not in the mood for creative lying and the truth would make her absolutely bonkers. Since there was always a chance she might call I registered an add-on plan with extortionate rates on my cell phone and let my company know I'm accompanying the client overseas. As this sort of thing is not unheard of, it did not produce any fuss. It took me only a few hours to get everything sorted and before I knew it, me and my tiny suitcase were heading back upstate. I arrived just as a delivery truck drove up to the house with a package. A long, sturdy, embossed cardboard box bound with a silk ribbon.</p><p>        Loki’s suit.</p><p>        Having signed for it, I brought it down to the Hospital Wing but then quickly retreated. I was fairly certain Loki was going to try it on and I was also fairly certain he would look absolutely devastating in a well-tailored suit. As I was probably going to have help him into it once, God help me, there is no reason to tempt fate and have to do it twice.</p><p>        Early Thursday morning I got everything ready for the trip and that evening Loki and I had the last set of hydrotherapy for a while and everyone went to bed early. In vain, I kept checking my phone over and over again for a reply from Thor but it never happened. The Odinsons were off grid for good. The next day Mary left shortly after lunch and I spent a good few hours making sure the house was ready to be left empty for the weekend. I locked all windows and doors, shut off the water and drained the pool while Loki arranged for a rental car to drive us out to the airport.</p><p>        Seeing as I was so freaked out internally about everything else, I didn’t really give any thought to how we were actually going to get to London. It was not until I was in the car, after I had checked my e-mail for the 100<sup>th</sup> time and received the same lack of any answer, that I noticed we were not heading in the direction of nearest international airport. When I pointed this out to Loki, who was very engrossed in reading a redlined document on his laptop, he just smiled.</p><p>        “Oh no,” I said, flopping back onto the seat. “This is the part where you drive me out into the woods and kill me, isn't it? On the one hand, that’s terrifying and exactly the sort of thing my mother told me would happen if I worked in the homes of strangers. On the other, I do want to tell you before you hunt me down for sport, that I do appreciate the extraordinarily long game you’ve played.”</p><p>        “Dear me, what an overactive imagination you have, darling,” chuckled Loki as he closed and put away his laptop. “I am forever surprised your mother never married you off to some brute who would destroy it with the sheer power of his mundane existence.”</p><p>        “Believe you me, attempts were made,” I grumbled. “But don’t change the topic, why no airport?”</p><p>        “Oh, we absolutely are going to an airport," he gave me a lazy smile. "Just not a major one, there is a much smaller one on the outskirts of the city.”</p><p>        “Loki,” I said suspiciously. “Are we taking a private jet to the UK?”</p><p>        The eye-roll he gave me could probably be seen from space.</p><p>        “I am at a loss as to how else you thought we would travel. Did you think I got us two economy tickets on a 777?”</p><p>        “Oh heavens forefend!” I snapped back at him. “I did, however, think you would get us something along the lines of business class! But of course you have a private jet, I really don’t know why I’m surprised.”</p><p>        “Correction: I do <em>not</em> have a private jet,” said Loki in a way that was somehow both casual and pedantic. “The company owns a private jet that I reserved for the duration of this weekend.”</p><p>        “Oh yes, that’s much better, I bet upwards of ten people use it at least once a year!”</p><p>        “Shall I buy you a last-minute economy class ticket, just to soothe your delicate middle-class sensibilities?” he asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or perhaps I should just pack you in a crate with the luggage? The comfort level would be about the same.”</p><p>        “How would you know?” I scoffed, “I'll bet any amount of money that you’ve never traveled with the peasants.”</p><p>        “Hmm, no,” Loki agreed, his eyes twinkling merrily. “But I can just imagine it now: fiddles and bagpipes playing, people dancing a merry jig, beer drinking, arm wresting …”</p><p>        In complete exasperation I threw a tube of Chapstick I was holding at him. It would have hit him straight between the eyes, but he caught it deftly and pocketed it.</p><p>        “Hey, that’s my only one!” I protested.</p><p>        “You should not have chucked it at me then,” Loki grinned. The car slowed down and started making a wide turn on a gravel road and he glanced outside and said in a more serious tone, “We are here.”</p><p>        The car slowed down and I looked and saw us roll up to a small, glass encased building surrounded by an impressive fence with a security gate and a booth. After some back and forth the car was waved through and we drove past the building towards a line of airline hangars. After parking the car next to one of them the driver carried our luggage off in some unknown direction after being told by Loki that we will wait in the car. We arrived a bit early, the plane was still being serviced. It stood, gleaming and beautiful and intimidatingly noisy on the tarmac.  </p><p>        “Christ, the rich do know how to live,” I mumbled after a woman in an immaculate suit and sensible flats came up to the car, spoke briefly with Loki and then led us to the plane to help us board. There were barely any people, there was no terminal, no lines and no hassle. No taking off your shoes, no being patted down by a creepy sweaty TSA worker and no walking down the carpeted claustrophobic sleeve. When we made it up the steps and into the cabin our things were already on board and the plane was going through the pre-flight checkups.</p><p>        I felt like I was on the set of Criminal Minds when I first saw the pristine, beige-and-cream leather interior. Loki threw his coat over the back of the two joined seats, sat down in front of the table and started pulling out his laptop and setting it up. </p><p>        “I guess this is all business as usual for you,” I told him as I checked for the last time and tuned off my phone. “But I’m dying to know if the chipper flight attendant will still give us the safety talk and tell us what to do with the oxygen mask in the event of cabin depressurization.”</p><p>        “Typically, no, but they may be willing to, just to make you feel comfortable.”</p><p>        “I don’t think they will be able to capture the infinite sadness in the eyes of a typical Delta Airlines employee.” I said as I threw myself into the squishy leather seat across the aisle from Loki. "And without that it's just not the same. I mean can you really say you've been on a flight until you get home and process the cold you inevitably get from the recirculated air?"</p><p>        I stretched out my feet and closed my eyes.</p><p>        <em>This isn’t so bad. If I keep making jokes for three days straight, I may just make it.</em></p><p>        The chipper flight attendant (named Victoria) came around to ask us if we were comfortable and to offer us refreshments. Loki asked for some tea, I just asked for some water and she brought  out some kind of glacier Finnish stuff in a hand-blown glass bottle. Clearly I was in way over my head here. There was a mad little moment where my anxiety-ridden brain tempted me to jump right off the plane and bolt in the direction of the nearest woods.</p><p>        <em>What was I doing here? What the hell was I doing here?</em></p><p>        I took a deep breath.</p><p><em>        You are here accompanying a patient. </em>I told myself. <em>Loki needs your help, so suck it up and be a professional. </em></p><p>        The rumble of the engine beneath us changed in pitch suddenly and then came the sound of the doors sealing shut around me. With a slight lurch the plane start taxiing up the runway. When I finally calmed myself down a bit I opened my eyes and looked up to see Loki eyeing me from over the top of his lap top. It was a common vantage point for him by now.   </p><p>        His brilliant eyes scrutinized me as he asked, “Are you truly so agitated?” his voice was only semi mocking.</p><p>        “Massively,” I replied. “Now pipe down, I’m trying to deal over here.”</p><p>        Loki chuckled in reply and it was such a pleasant sound that I focused on it and replayed it in my mind while pushing away all the rest. The plane took off smoothly and I felt the rising air pressure in my ears, but I’ve flown plenty of times before so I didn’t mind it. Paradoxically, as soon as we were in the air my panicked thoughts receded. What's done is done, no use turning myself inside out with stress over something I can no longer control. Instead I sunk a little deeper into the comfortable armchair-like seat, stretched my legs out and willed myself to relax.</p><p>        In the end I was too good at it and fell asleep to the gentle hum of the jet and to the clicking sound of the computer keys.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tldr; OC is a wreck.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. An eye for an eye.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        The smell of coffee and eggs and the feel of someone’s warm hand on my shoulder woke me. For a second I couldn’t remember where I was or why any of that was weird, but then I looked up and saw Loki’s brilliant eyes looking down at me, rendered seafoam green by the unnatural low lighting of the plane’s interior.</p><p>        “Oh right," I mumbled. "Where are we? What time is it?”</p><p>        “Just after 2am London time,” he replied. “There is still a few hours left to go, we just passed Iceland. I just thought you might like some breakfast.”</p><p>        I was going to make some comment about how eating bacon and eggs in the middle of the night feels ridiculous, but just then my stomach growled dangerously so I bit my tongue and mumbled “Thanks” before slipping out of my seat to find the bathroom. Having splashed some water on my face and after making use of the available amenities I felt much more awake and refreshed. When I got back to my seat there was a tray on the table with a carefully rolled steaming omelet, a fruit salad bowl, puffy warm rolls served with jam and butter in little dishes. All utensils were metal and all dishes were made of gleaming white porcelain. The napkins were linen and I placed one on my lap like I was having Sunday tea after church, so as not to seem uncultured before my hosts.</p><p>        “I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer tea or coffee, so I asked the attendant to come back and ask you” said Loki. He was on his laptop again, his breakfast already polished off with a thoroughness that would surely annoy Mary if she knew about it.</p><p>        “Did you sleep at all?” I asked, cutting into the fluffy, eggy goodness to reveal melted brie, chives and mushrooms.</p><p>        “No. For some reason I am incapable of sleep on planes, no matter how comfortable the accommodations may be. It is one of the reasons why I hate traveling to the States.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, still set to New York time, “It is still early evening there, I genuinely fail to understand how you were able to fall asleep so fast.”</p><p>        “Healthcare worker,” I shrugged. “We're perpetually tired and sleep like horses. I can pretty much zonk out anywhere for a few good hours.”</p><p>        “Had I known, I would have asked the attendants to make a bed for you,” said Loki while vaguely gesturing to the back of the plane. “The seats beyond that partition can be reassembled into a berth, but I never ask for it myself.”</p><p>        “Oh, that’s all right,” I shrugged. “Seems like too much of a bother. The chairs here are pretty comfy.”</p><p>        Victoria the chipper flight attendant came around and I asked her for coffee.</p><p>        “You should get some sleep after we get to London,” I pointed out while stuffing my face with a buttered roll. “You'll need lots of rest. I take it the dinner will go late into the night?”</p><p>        “Yes, but if I am still on New York time I should barely feel it. One weekend will not be enough for me to re-adjust to the time difference.” Loki paused for a moment, then closed the laptop and slid it to the side. Leaning back, he stretched out his long legs and stared at me thoughtfully for a few moments before finally saying, “we will be thrown together very much in the next few days, and because of that, I wish to ask you a personal question.”</p><p>        My heart very nearly shot out of my throat. “Only if I get to ask one back,” I relied.</p><p>        “An eye for an eye, how very in character for you, darling. Very well, I accept. My question is, what happened to your father?”</p><p>        <em>Oh.</em></p><p>        I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that.</p><p>        “He died,” I said simply as I pushed the finished breakfast tray away and wiped my mouth with a napkin. Then I turned to face Loki, my back straight and my shoulders squared. “He worked as a supervisor on a warehouse floor of some store. One day, a forklift driver came in for work still tweaked on something from the night before and caused an accident. I don’t know the details, I was only eight at the time and mom never talks about it. He bled out in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. It messed me up for a while as a kid. He just left one day and didn't ever come back home. I don't even remember the last thing I ever said to him, it was probably something stupid about ancient Egypt or Sailor Moon or something. I have weird memories from that time, eventually I went to grief counseling as a teenager and it got better but it still hurts because it always will and that's okay. Why on earth do you want to know?”</p><p>       “Is that my equivalent personal question?” asked Loki shrewdly.  </p><p>       “No, that’s just a regular follow-up you should still answer,” I replied dryly.</p><p>       “When you started ..." He broke off, paused for a moment thinking and then started again. "On your first day of work, when you were making your evaluation, you were nothing but a stranger to me. I saw you as a nuisance and all I wanted was for you to go away and leave me alone. So, I behaved rudely, I was intentionally aggressive and mean in a manner that I hoped would drive you off. I needled you about your father to hurt you, but you parried well and I assumed we came out even on the exchange. But now … I wanted to know if my words hurt you more than you led on.”</p><p>        “And what if they did?” I inquired.</p><p>        “I shall watch my back, I suppose," his smile was a little rueful. "Make sure to lock my bedroom while I sleep, for a start.”</p><p>        “I could always poison your tea.”</p><p>        “Why do you think I am keeping such a careful eye on this?” he replied blithely as he picked up a white china cup and sipped from it.</p><p>        I snorted and tapped my finger against my lips in thought. There were so many questions about this crazy man that I wanted answered, but I also wanted the exchange to be equal. It was only fair that the level of personal information exchanged should be equivalent.</p><p>        “What is the deal with your sister?” I asked finally.</p><p>        Loki mulled the question over for a second or two, seemingly completely unsurprised by it.</p><p>        “Of the three of us, Hela always had the worst relationship with our father. And believe me, that <em>really</em> is saying something. He was disinterested in me and focused far to much attention on Thor but with Hela it was somehow both. For as long as I can remember they were at each other's throats. Hela resented the control he exerted over her and the expectations he placed on her. There is a strong line of egoism running through our family. Not one among us likes to be told what to do and not a one can admit they were ever wrong. As a result even minor disagreements between them would turn into utter blowouts that could last weeks and weeks. </p><p>        Additionally, I suspect Hela does not process emotions in the same way other people do. I am fairly certain she lacks the ability to feel empathy and she cannot summon interest or investment in anything other than herself. She never cared about father's approval in the way we did and she never wanted to continue his legacy; she was only interested in having one of her own. My mother eventually brokered a peace between them by convincing father that Hela's disinterest could hurt the company is she were to inherit it. She was given a modest amount of funds and released into the world. Father likely expected her to fail but Hela ended up doing quite well for herself. She’s no Jeff Bazos, but she will never go hungry either and this, ironically, created an even bigger rift between them. Father never forgave her for her success and she could not stand the fact that all that success is still technically predicated on her family’s fortune. As a result, her contact with the family has been very limited. Particularly since our mother passed away.”</p><p>        Loki paused, made a face and pulled on his earlobe casually before continuing.</p><p>        “When I told Lisa that it is not in Hela to care about the will or … anything else that pertains to it, I meant it literally. Who gets how much and why is of no consequence to her. It is not a matter principle, so she would not reject her legacy outright, but neither would she care about the particulars of it. She only ever does things that amuse or appeal to her. She does not care much for any of us, but also I do not think she has the capacity to do so in any meaningful way. May I ask why you are interested in her?”</p><p>        For a moment I processed what Loki said and what he left unsaid.</p><p>        “The family dynamic between all the Odinsons is very interesting to me,” I replied finally. “Particularly between all the siblings. It’s unusual to see such frank dislike in conjunction with such affection between family members. Usually that sort of stuff is hidden under miles of repression and denial. Most people have pretty bad blinders on when it comes to their family, but not so with you lot.”</p><p>        “I suppose that is true,” agreed Loki with a slight nod. “We all know each other far too well and do not have it in us to pretend otherwise. Though of course, we can still surprise each other just fine now and then, as it turns out.”</p><p>        A hint of genuine bitterness lay deep underneath the calm surface of that last sentence.</p><p>        “Is it possible that your father knew all along that neither your brother nor your sister would care?" I asked mildly.</p><p>        “Perhaps he did, who really knows with him,” said Loki, his voice cool and detached. “But just about any other way of letting me know would have been preferable to what he settled on, in the end. I find myself not caring very much for his reasons."</p><p>        “Fair enough,” I was not about to approach the topic beyond that.</p><p>        Loki’s gaze became distant, he was in his own head now and I knew that state of mind well enough and I didn’t want to intrude.</p><p>        The chipper flight attendant Victoria came in to collect our dishes and to let us know that we are now flying over England and will be soon approaching some airport in the boroughs of London. After she left, I turned away and busied myself by looking out the window although beyond it was nothing but black night. It didn’t matter though, as I had my own head to crowd around in.</p><p>        Loki’s reason for asking me about my dad now, made no sense. If he wanted to know if I’m secretly pissed at him, waiting until we were sealed in a tube above the Atlantic was a stupid move. And Loki was many things but he wasn't stupid. Additionally, I knew him to be a decent judge of character, good enough to know that I was enough of a professional not to carry a personal grudge against a patient, let alone act on one. </p><p>         Perhaps he was simply curious, but knew the question was private and invasive so he waited until the surrounding circumstances changed enough for a casual conversation to work. He was on home turf here and felt more comfortable, while I felt much more like his friendly guest than his paid-for handler. The professional relationship that existed between us back in Thor’s house was much less felt here.</p><p>         But there was more to it then that. What was it he said?</p><p>
  <em>… not one among us likes to be told what to do and not a one can admit they were wrong …</em>
</p><p>         True, no doubt, but why bring that up? And the story of his sister, he could have told it with half the frankness and detail, but willingly he offered me more than expected. This was the first time I really heard him speak so conversationally and openly about something so private. He was almost friendly. Then I thought back to something else he said:</p><p>
  <em>… all I wanted was for you to go away and leave me alone …</em>
</p><p>        Was he <em>explaining</em> himself to me?</p><p>        Trying to gauge not how angry I was at him, but how angry I was at <em>him</em>?</p><p>        The whole cabin was reflected in Plexiglas window at my side and with the darkness of the night beyond it I could see behind me very clearly. Loki sat in the same row as me but on the opposite end, the partitions between the chairs on his side were all raised so that it looked like he was casually lounging on a couch, his chin resting delicately on his upturned hand. I could not see his face.</p><p>        The jet began to descend and I finally saw below us the glowing lights of cities and towns. Having never traveled to Europe before, I watched with interest as the enormous sprawl of the city got closer and closer. The roads were more crooked here, winding down and around instead of criss-crossing the land in straight lines. Eventually the plane smoothly touched down and taxiied up the runway to a stop. As we gathered our things and waited for the steps to lower so that we could disembark I kept thinking and thinking about my conversation with Loki. I wanted him to know I understood him and I wanted him to know there were no hard feelings on my end, but I did not want to state that in so many words. I fiddled with the zipper of my tote absentmindedly as I watched Loki put away his laptop into his leather messenger bag.</p><p>        “You know,” I said finally, trying to keep my voice casual. “I like my job on the whole, but it can be a real downer. I see people at their lowest points and loads are not exactly cuddly. I don’t hold it against them, of course, how can I? And most do come around eventually. This is a good job, but not what one would call a glamorous job. So, I just wanted to say thanks for lugging me out here. I’ve never been to Europe, I’ve never been on a private jet, all this is kind of exiting!”</p><p>        Loki’s eyes rose to meet mine and any doubt I had about reading him correctly evaporated. He and I understood each other perfectly. It was like stumbling on a book in your language among hundreds and hundreds of foreign language books.</p><p>        “The shower thing was an asshole move though,” I added to lighten the mood when the ensuing pause had started to drag on. “I will definitely put strychnine in your food for that one.”</p><p>        “Oh dear, did we land in Agatha Christie’s Britain by mistake? Where would one even obtain strychnine in this day and age?” smiled Loki. It was a pure smile, one that was not laced with irony or disdain or anything else and it was devastatingly handsome on him.</p><p>        “Shame on you, Loki! I'd never tell! Snitches get stitches.” I told him indignantly and laughed when his nose wrinkled in distaste at the phrasing.</p><p>        The doors opened and the stairs were lowered, a burst of fresh, wet, cool wind hit us both. It must have recently rained, the smell of wet earth was in the air.</p><p>        Together we moved towards the exit, said our thanks to the flight crew and stepped on British soil. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The next chapter is one of my favorites, but it needs a lot of editing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Giving and Receiving.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         “So, do you find yourself craving tea and crumpets more now that you’re breathing the English air?”</p><p>         We were once again sitting in the back of a hired car, this time driving on the wrong side of the road through the London streets. The city was mostly asleep and traffic was sparse, the sun had not yet risen but the sky was grey and dawn was closing in.</p><p>         “Oh I never stopped craving good tea,” Loki’s head was thrown back against the back seat, his voice was relaxed, his inky hair seamlessly matched the dark leather of the car’s interior. His eyes were closed and after a pause he added with a slight smile, “Do you even know what crumpets are?”</p><p>         “Delectable women of easy virtue,” I answered easily.</p><p>         “Ehehehehe, that was well set up, so I concede it to you,” said Loki with a light chuckle. “As it happens, I never stopped craving those either.”</p><p>         “Aw, poor little rich boy! Maybe you can catch up at the gala, pick someone up over cocktails, open with how you can buy the Thames and pave over it, you'll get someone into your bed before you know it! Just remember to put a sock on the doorknob, like in college.”</p><p>         “We used to hang ties, actually.”</p><p>         “Of course you did, were they monogrammed? I bet they were monogrammed!”</p><p>         It occurred to me at that moment that I was a tad too giddy and too teasing, but also that Loki changed too; his whole manner altered subtly as soon as he stepped on home soil. He was more at ease, his shoulders were less tense, his limbs were more languid. And his eyes … too late I realized that his eyes were only half closed under those long dark eyelashes. Having caught me staring he opened them and gave me a questioning arch of his perfect brow.</p><p>         “You’re different here,” I pointed out honestly. “It’s really noticeable, all the tension’s gone out of you, do you really dislike US so much?”</p><p>         “No, it is not so much that …” he said as he glanced out the window and reached for his walking stick. The car neatly pulled up next to the curb at the entrance to a behemoth-like high rise made of red brick, iron and dark tinted glass, “I suppose I am simply glad to be home.”</p><p>         We climbed out onto the sidewalk and the driver gave us a hand with the luggage. Then, despite the fact that is was 5am on a Saturday, a dark-haired middle-aged man in a well-tailored suit popped out through the glass doors as if he’s been waiting for us there the whole night.</p><p>         “Let me help you with that Madam. Hello Sir, welcome back.”</p><p>         “Thank-you Fred, is your family well?” For him, Loki sounded almost genial.</p><p>         “Yes Sir, very kind of you to ask.”</p><p>
  <em>         Christ, it’s like being in a period drama. </em>
</p><p>         But I held my tongue, as clearly this person knew Loki and they had a rapport. And he called me Madam, which I was fairly certain was a first for me. Was this a thing among the very rich? Thor’s use of <em>milady</em> suddenly didn’t seem so odd.</p><p>         Loki’s apartment was on the 25<sup>th</sup> floor, which was definitely in the upper half of the building but far from the elite penthouse I pictured. As we made our way up Fred updated Loki on things that happened in his absence as it was apparently him that kept an eye on the place while Loki was stuck recuperating in the US. After we made it through the door of the apartment and into a front vestibule area I shrugged out of my jacket and took in Loki's abode.</p><p>        It was, somehow, both what I expected and yet something very different.</p><p>        Much like Thor’s house, Loki’s place was a good reflection of the kind of person he was. Thor’s house was a sturdy thing of light wood, chrome and glass. Like it’s owner it was open and breezy and casual, built with purpose and meaning, solid but not showy or excessive. Loki’s apartment was darker in tone and décor, with exposed brick walls and long gnarled wooden beams running along the tall white ceilings. There was a lot of dark oak and wrought iron, but the space just managed to escape looking sinister due to its size, the open nature of its architecture and the many delicate and beautiful touches that were subtly distributed throughout.</p><p>         In some ways it was more of a loft than a typical apartment. The entrance was on a level a little lower than the rest of the rooms and there were closets and storage shelves build into the walls, but immediately beyond this front area and up a few steps the living and dining areas were merged into one open space topped with a two-story tall ceiling. The wide outside-facing wall was wholly made of exposed red brick and five large rectangular windows were cut into it; the early London city life bustled below and beyond them. Between the windows, arranged in neat, symmetrical sets, were framed photos, artworks, objects and prints. The gleaming dark hardwood floors were covered in plush carpets decorated with elaborate and delicate vine-like patterns. All the furniture was mismatched and mostly antique, there was a great many sofas and chaises and armchairs all re-upholstered in cool-tone supple suede and velvet. Opposite to the windows, tall bookshelves lined the entire back wall and high above them five large decorative bronze disks filigreed with twisted Celtic designs were set into it. Beyond the living room area stood an enormous solid-wood table with twelve matching chairs and a tricky modern bronze chandelier in the shape of a spiral hung above it. Next to it was a copper accented kitchen with a wide island that could be used as a table, a gas range and all possible modern appliances. Beyond and through an archway framed by wooden beams was a hallway leading deeper into the apartment. Starting at the kitchen the living space split into two levels and to get to the second floor you had to ascend a wrought iron spiral staircase. At the top of the stairs was a mezzanine that overlooked the entire apartment and from which a hallway lead to several closed doors, presumably bedrooms.</p><p>        I think what surprised me the most was the art. Three Holbein sketches were neatly placed on a long floating living room shelf and interspersed with fossils, geodes and delicate conch and nautilus shells. A beautiful Burne-Jones paining of biblical scene I didn't recognize hung above an antique carved credenza in the dining room area. There was a Modigliani portrait of a woman in blue in the reading area by the book shelves, situated right above a comfortable looking wingback armchair upholstered in dark green velvet. Everywhere, in neat even-numbered sets, hung black shadowbox frames with antique coins, arrowheads and flint knives, pages from old illuminated manuscripts and illustrated Victorian periodicals. Finally, on wall next to the iron staircase, was a what I could only hope was a reproduction of Klimt’s embracing couple under the tree of life.</p><p>         Nothing here was overly showy or opulent and yet I knew that the relative simplicity of the place was deceptive. Even excluding the art and the antiques and what <em>had</em> to be Persian rugs, this was a relatively new complex built to resemble in style the antique repurposed lofts of old. Which means you paid twice; once for all the modern amenities and once for the old-world, hipster aesthetic. After looking around I also understood far better Thor’s decision to transfer Loki to the US for the duration of his recovery. The apartment was warm, comfortable and felt far more home-y than I expected, but it would have been impossible to care for someone as injured as Loki in here.</p><p>        Behind me I heard the exchange between Loki and Fred wind down.   </p><p>        “The food you requested is in the refrigerator and the parcels that arrived in your absence I put in the rooms you specified. A courier for Mr. Heithbridge-West picked up your post last week.”</p><p>        “I appreciate you looking after everything in my absence,” Loki’s voice was near to cordial.</p><p>        “It was no trouble at all Sir, please let me know if you need anything else,” with that Fred turned towards me slightly, wished us both good day and left. After Loki locked the door after him he slipped out of his jacket, taking care to spare his right shoulder.</p><p>        “God, what a relief it is to be back,” he said with a sigh and ran the fingers of his left hand through his hair. Throwing his jacket on the back of a nearby armchair he turned towards me, eyes sparkling merrily, and said “Well then, lets have it.”</p><p>        “It’s much warmer in tone and hue than I thought it would be,” I replied honestly. “For some reason I pictured everything in cooler colors. Also, it’s very in character that you don’t have a TV in here.”</p><p>        “Perhaps I keep one in my bedroom,” suggested Loki lightly.</p><p>        “No way,” I laughed, “I would bet money you don't!” </p><p>        “True,” he agreed. “There is a sort of den beyond the kitchen that serves as media room, although I rarely use it other than to get to the bar. If I end up watching something, I somehow always end up watching it on my computer in the office next door.”</p><p>        “That’s not a real Klimt is it?” I asked, pointing above his head.</p><p>        “No, the real thing is quite firmly attached to a wall of a house in Belgium, this is a scaled up copy, but I am very fond of it,” said Loki. “I do have two genuine Klimt sketches in my office, but I did not think hanging them in the living room would be entirely appropriate. Even for me.”</p><p>        “Ah yes, in case the parish priest drops by for tea?”</p><p>        “I am a good and honest Pentacostal,” he said piously, then paused and added “wait no, that cannot be right, I meant Pansexual, I always get those two confused.”</p><p>        “Should I perhaps not sit on any of this nice furniture?” I asked with mock distaste.</p><p>        “Oh I would not worry about that,” replied Loki dismissively. “I have never once made love horizontally. If you question anything in this place, question the walls."</p><p>        "How very charming."</p><p>        "Expect no less of me, dearest." Loki rolled his shoulder automatically and winced slightly.</p><p>        “What hurts?” I asked, suddenly on alert.</p><p>        “No need to fuss, the collarbone merely throbs in a dull sort of way as it always does.” I frowned at him and watched as Loki put weight on his right leg and made a face.</p><p>        “Maybe also the thigh,” he admitted begrudgingly. “Again, not too badly, some rest will set it right. I need a shower and some sleep; would you be all right if I left you to your own devices for a few hours?”</p><p>        “Sure,” I shrugged. “I might also sleep some and if not, I can always raid your bookshelves to pass the time. But if the pain doesn’t go away after you wake up, we’ll have to do something about it.”</p><p>        “Let us cross that bridge when we get there,” said Loki as he started up the staircase. He was leaning on the stick a little, but otherwise just looked tired. When he got up to the second floor and passed the first closed door, he tapped on it with his knuckles.</p><p>        “Your room,” he said over his shoulder. “Everything you need for your stay should already be in there.”</p><p>        I got up the stairs and looked down the hall; there were a few closed doors similar to the first and then at the very end a set of double doors, presumably leading to the master bedroom. Without even getting through it, Loki started pulling his T-shirt off and I looked away as I pushed the guestroom door open.</p><p>        It was a very neutral room; three walls were painted off white and were offset by the exposed red brick back wall. There was an en suite bathroom and a walk-in closet on the left side and on the right was a long chest of drawers with a large mirror hanging above it. Two narrow floor-to-ceiling windows were cut into the far ends of the brick wall and positioned between them was a neatly made king sized bed covered with a white duvet embroidered with red and black poppies.</p><p>        On the bed, neatly spread out, were four cardboard boxes of varying sizes.</p><p>        The large white one, bound with a white bow, caught my eye first. Mostly because of the word “Dior” printed on it in large black letters.</p><p>        “The hell?” I mumbled stupidly as I came closer.</p><p>        To the right of it was a large beige box embossed with a logo of a horse and rider and the word “Burberry”. A second and much smaller box with the same insignia lay on top of the first. To the left was a brown shopping bag and as I came closer the “Louboutin” logo caught the early morning sun bursting through the window and shimmered merrily at me.  </p><p>        “Son of a … !“ my cold hands balled into fists, I spun around.</p><p>        Loki was leaning on the doorway to the room, sans shirt, watching me with infinite amusement flickering in his brilliant blue-green eyes. There was a second-long pause in which he drank in my flabbergasted expression.</p><p>        “I shall cherish that look for the rest of my life, dearest,” he chucked.</p><p>        “What. The. Hell?” I hurled each word at him and felt a stupid blush creep up my neck and settle on my cheeks.</p><p>        “It occurred to me some time ago,” he said with infuriating calm.“That every time I asked you to come to this dinner with me you declined and your reason was not that you did not <em>want</em> to go, but that you did not have the sort of attire expected at such events. Now you do. You certainly still do not have to, but if not having the right clothes was the only thing stopping you, I had it in my power to make that particular problem disappear.”</p><p>        “Loki, this is completely …” I began.</p><p>        “I know, I know,” he said and nodded towards the parcel. “Go on, open it.”</p><p>        “Loki, I don't think it's …”</p><p>        “No, probably not,” he agreed. “But still, open it. I want to know what you think.”</p><p>        I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to try and bring down my skyrocketing blood pressure and calm the heart that was firmly lodged in my throat. Was I flattered or insulted? Was I annoyed or impressed? This was too much, but it was also Loki so why did I think it would be any different? What else was there to do? I turned back around and, still stunned, pulled on the white ribbon and lifted the lid off the Dior box. There was a good deal of delicate, crinkly tissue and underneath it a silk, floor length gown with all the color and shimmer of jade. Swaths of green material wrapped around to make the bodice and fell down and away to create a full skirt made up of a million pleats.</p><p>        “I thought this shade of green would suit your complexion and the color of your hair,” Loki’s voice behind me was gentle.</p><p>        I didn’t know what to say to that. To any of it. Loki rendered me speechless. I looked back at him again to see that he was unmistakably enjoying this fact, but there was something else there too. Underneath the layers of self-assured amusement there was a soft and uncertain sort of kindness and that was the most disarming thing of all. Having pulled the gown from the box, I was now almost too afraid to hold it. I laid it out on the bed instead and stared at it dumbly for another second as my brain rearranged itself.</p><p>        “Loki, this is ridiculously unnecessary,” I finally managed to squeeze out.</p><p>        “Damnation woman, can you at least open the rest of the gifts before telling me you cannot possibly accept them?” He grumbled, “I put work into this, you know.”</p><p>        That made me laugh, I couldn’t help it and it was beyond me at that moment to snark back or do anything else. He got me good. In every sense of the word. I pulled towards me the shopping bag and pulled out a box, which I knew would contain a frightfully expensive pair of shoes. The pair turned out to be plain navy suede pumps with a red underside.</p><p>        “How are these exactly my size?” I asked as I gently pulled one of the shoes from the box and admired the ludicrous heel on it. When I slipped it on the added height allowed me to just about look Loki in the eye.</p><p>        “Please,” he relied. “Your running shoes and change of clothes are stored next to mine at the gym. Simple enough to make a note of the sizes and I have purchased clothing as gifts before.”</p><p>        Setting the shoes aside and I opened the smaller Burberry box. A simple clutch made of dark leather rested on a cushion of satin material. That only left the bigger box, when I pulled the top off and saw what was inside, I had to sit down. A cashmere trench coat. I knew plenty about fashion world, definitely enough to do some quick math in my head.</p><p>        “Loki, you’re mad,” I whispered. “This is ten grand worth of stuff!”</p><p>        “Nonsense, with tax and delivery it barely cracked nine,” he replied with a shrug.</p><p>        “This is not remotely funny," it was hard but I was starting to return to logic. "In fact, it comfortably borders on inappropriate.”</p><p>        “Why?” He seemed genuinely surprised at the notion. “I felt like I owe you something. Is it so unusual for patients to give gifts to the people who helped take care of them in a dark or bad time?”</p><p>        “This isn’t exactly a gift card to Starbucks, is it?” I said, gesturing at the rifled through boxes on the bed. “And do you mean to tell me you’re getting this stuff for Mary too?”</p><p>        “Perhaps not a ballgown, as she is not the type to care for such things, but I do have something arranged,” replied Loki simply. “In terms of simple sums of money involved it is actually somewhat more expensive than your gifts, but she was with me longer and I was not kind to her. I am still not particularly kind to her, now that I think about it, but that does not mean I do not appreciate her skills. I would ask you not to tell her any of this, everything will be gifted to her around Christmas time.”</p><p>        “I could sell all this online, you know,” I said. “The clutch alone would get me close a grand on <em>Bag, Borrow, Steal</em>.”</p><p>        “Certainly," agreed Loki with infuriating calm. "These are your gifts, you are free to do with them whatever you like.”</p><p>        At last he moved from his position in the doorway and came closer, standing only inches away from me, smelling like pine and tea and mint, he gently tilted my chin up with the tips of his fingers so that we could look each other in the eyes. It was like staring at the northern lights, you could lose track of time and end up staring at them for hours and hours.</p><p><em>       And freeze to death.</em> Reminded me the nagging voice of self-preservation at the back of my scull.</p><p>       “My invitation for tonight stands,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet. “Give it some consideration, at least. I will admit, my motives for having someone with me are selfish. Going alone will raise unnecessary questions regarding my personal life. Lisa and I were together for a long time and at the moment our breakup is not a known fact. I wish to avoid having to answer the same question six dozen times and with you there it will not be asked at all. Having said that, you will probably enjoy the experience.”</p><p>       Taking one step back Loki glanced at his watch, “I really must go to sleep now, but I should be up again by noon. If you need anything feel free to wake me earlier, I am a light sleeper these days.”</p><p>       And just like that, as if nothing completely insane happened, he went out of the room and down the hall. I heard the door to his room close and sat down on the edge of the bed, still dumbfounded and confused and surrounded by my luxurious gifts.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I actually had way more on the art in this chapter originally, about how it's something Frigga and Loki shared (an  equivalent to their shared talent and love of magic in the MCU), how several of the paintings he has were once hers and remind him of her. It never quite made it into the story in an organic way. Maybe I will find space for it in the later chapters. Or maybe in the sequel :)</p><p>I'm actually not a fan of "Rich Guy showers Poor Protagonist with gifts" trope but in this case I wanted to show just how much of a favor Loki feels OC has done for him by getting him out of a bad mental AND physical state.</p><p>Burberry coats are nice and all but it's insane what they charge for them!<br/>The green Dior dress is modeled after this one:<br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Disrupted rythms.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        For the next 20 minutes my mind resembled one of those hamster wheels in which an animal runs itself to exhaustion. The apartment was completely quiet. I could hear clock ticking on the wall in the hallway and the muffled sounds of early morning traffic that were seeping from the outside. The more I tried to think, be rational and professional the more I failed at it. It was like those parts of my brain failed to activate. I couldn’t stop staring that the beautiful things before me. I couldn’t stop thinking of the subtle kindness in Loki’s eyes as he gave them to me. My heart hammered in my chest almost painfully until finally I forced myself to move.</p><p>        I took a long hot shower, dried off, put my hair up and then put the jade green gown on. It was a squeeze at the waist but height-wise it was perfect and after putting on the pumps I stood before the full-length mirror in the closet and thought:  </p><p>        <em>Damn, the color does look good with my skin tone.</em></p><p>        Loki was so goddam extra he had an eye for women’s clothing. He also remembered a joke-y comment I made months ago and matched it. I was never, ever going to recover from this man! I swished my hips slightly to the right and then to the left and the cool, fine, pleated silk followed, shimmering lightly, rustling gracefully around my legs like a cat.</p><p>        <em>I’ll be buried in this gown</em>. Said one part of my stupid brain.</p><p>        <em>I can get two grand for this gown.</em> Answered another, just as stupid, contrarian part.</p><p>        Slipping the dress off carefully, I hung it up in the closet. I did the same with the perfectly tailored cashmere coat. I put away the shoes and the clutch. I unpacked what little there was in my suitcase, got dressed, brushed out my hair and properly braided it into a crown around my head. Meanwhile, there was a raging storm in my head with random thoughts firing in every direction:</p><p>
  <em>        He’s throwing money at you to annoy you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        He just needs someone on his arm to divert attention.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        He likes you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>        He just wants to thank you for your work.</em>
</p><p>        My stomach growled a little with hunger. That omelet on the plane now seemed ages ago. I went downstairs into the kitchen and had a poke around. The fridge had all kinds of recently purchased food, but it was still packed up and I didn’t want to touch it, as I felt it would make me a poor house guest. There was however a ceramic bowl with a stack of CLIFF and Nutrition bars on the kitchen island, so I pilfered a few of those, which to me felt fair. Then sat down on the leather couch in the living room with a glass of water. I could see the London traffic from the nearby window and watched it while I thought things over. Moving around and focusing on basic tasks allowed my brain to calm down enough to revisit my situation.</p><p>        Loki’s actions felt genuine. It is not an easy task to give a woman working with you close to ten thousand dollars worth of expensive clothing and not have her feel insulted or obligated, and yet somehow he pulled it off. After the initial surprise wore off, I found myself flattered and touched by the gesture. Price tag is one thing, but care and planning went into this. No doubt, this performance was done, in part, to satisfy Loki’s almost perverse need for mischief, but there was a genuine note to it as well.</p><p>        But a genuine note of what? Affection?</p><p>        My stomach lurched anxiously at that. No, it couldn’t be. Not in the way <em>I</em> was thinking of <em>him</em>. Rich people spend money freely, ten grand is nothing for a guy like Loki who has millions in the bank. There are plenty of stories of well-off customers buying extravagant gifts for people that work for them. This is just the first time that type of gift has been given to me personally and it threw me off, that’s all.</p><p>        I frowned at the wall. This line of reasoning seemed flimsy even to me, but I soldiered on past it, not wanting to look at it any closer lest if falls apart before my eyes. In the end I decided to accept the gifts, since to refuse them after such thought went into arranging them would hurt Loki and sour our relationship. And of course I liked them too, there was no denying that. The next question was what to do about Loki’s invitation. In my heart I certainly wanted to go, but it was for the wrong reason. Was there a right reason to go with him? A less personal one? Technically, yes there was, going with Loki would allow me to keep an eye on him and provide quick and discreet aid should the need arise. The downside was that this whole thing could pretty rightly be seen as unprofessional, but if I could convince myself this was a good idea, I could explain away this this decision to Saint Peter himself if called upon to do so.</p><p>        There were still questions to ask Loki about this whole thing, but with him asleep there was not much else I could do. So, to distract myself, I wandered towards the long line of bookshelves. Loki had eclectic reading tastes, but in general there was a lot of plays, books on art and history, a good deal of historical fiction, biographies, books on journalism, law and political science. Some of the shelves had great big gaps in them and there were six at eye-level that were completely empty. It was easy to guess why and I felt a pang of sympathy for Loki in that moment. Lisa Narracott was, by all evidence, an absolute piece of work, but they were together for five years before breaking up. They lived together and were at one point engaged. The split must have hit Loki hard and came at the worst possible time. He was not the type to talk through his issues with anyone, so he carried the double wounds of the breakup and his father’s deception with him and allowed them to fester and poison him emotionally. So much so that for a time he had no desire to recover from the injuries he sustained or do much of anything.</p><p>
  <em>        That emotional crisis, at least, seems to have passed. </em>
</p><p>        I thought as I ran my hand along the book spines and pulled one out at random from somewhere in the history section.</p><p><em>        If Walls Could Talk: An Intimate History of the Home</em> by Lucy Worseley.</p><p>        <em>Sure, that’ll do. </em></p><p>        So I curled up on the couch and read about the history of bedroom, which is far more interesting than it sounds. A several hours passed without me even noticing and then a voice came from somewhere above me and made me jump.</p><p>        “Did you sleep at all?” Loki leaning on the wrought iron handrail of the mezzanine. He was wearing dark flannel pajama pants and, thankfully, a white t-shirt. He looked much more rested, I glanced at the clock; it was now just after 11am.</p><p>        “No,” I sighed, as I set the book aside. “I was all jittery because some rich jerk decided to punch me in the teeth with ten grand worth of stuff.”</p><p>        “Admittedly,” he said casually as he made his way down the spiral staircase. “I do not believe there is a way to give you such a gift without it being a shock. So naturally, I decided to maximize it for my own amusement.”</p><p>        “I suppose the idea of toning it down a bit instead never even occurred to you?" I asked mildly.</p><p>        "Certainly not," Loki replied with utter conviction. "Where is the fun in that?"</p><p>        "You realize I will have to get you back for this, right?"</p><p>        “Of course,” he replied with a smile. “Are you hungry?”</p><p>        “Yes.”</p><p>        Loki started pulling stuff out of the fridge. There was a tray of pre-prepared sandwiches and a cheeseboard wrapped in plastic wrap and a plate of mixed vegetables and pitted olives. I leaned on the cool granite of the island counter-top and watched him make tea methodically, he had the full set for it and one of his kitchen cupboard shelves was entirely filled with carefully labelled sealed containers of loose-leaf tea. As he pored hot water into a white ceramic pot decorated with gilded art deco designs, he looked up and found me staring.</p><p>        “What?” he asked, his tone half defensive and half joking.</p><p>        “There is not a single store-bought teabag in this whole apartment is there?” I asked him as I slipped into a bar stool across from him on the kitchen island.</p><p>        “Not unless a bird made a nest with it outside the window,” replied Loki blithely.</p><p>        “You’re so extra Loki,” I sighed and shook my head. “You are just so goddamn extra.”</p><p>        His perfectly straight nose wrinkled at that.</p><p>        “In what way exactly?” he asked as he set a little timer on the counter.  </p><p>        “In every conceivable way,” I said. “Don’t take this as a compliment, but even if I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I will ever meet another man quite like you.”</p><p>        “There’s always my brother,” he pointed out, a hint of sibling rivalry in his voice making the statement just a little sardonic.</p><p>        I shook my head again and said “It’s not remotely the same. You said it yourself; you’re not interchangeable. Your brother is a walking, talking Christmas card that can lift a car. If I look through every gym in America, I may find another one of him somewhere, earnestly helping little old ladies cross the street and eating for six at company BBQs or family dinners and being one hundred percent in love with his wife for the rest of his life. Meanwhile, you’re more like one of those illustrations of the electron around the atom in university-level chemistry books. So complicated and difficult to predict that scientists just settled on drawing all the possible forms it can take and called it a day. That’s you. Again, that’s not necessarily a compliment.”</p><p>        “And what are you then?” asked Loki.</p><p>        I considered my answer for a moment before replying, “you know one of those signs in the middle of a corn field in Iowa or Ohio or whatever that just say HELL IS REAL? Yea, I’m probably one of those.”</p><p>        “Oh yes,” Loki chuckled, as he sat down across from me. “That is a very good summation of you, an American-grown, Old Testament hell itself.”</p><p>        “Yee-haw” I grinned just before the timer made a soft chiming noise. </p><p>        Loki poured each of us a cup of tea and we got to work devouring the food. I watched Loki inhale four sandwiches, eat a good deal of cheese and at least half of the olives and drink most of the pot of tea. It was like watching a mountain goat scale up a vertical cliff on a nature documentary, you suspect they are capable of it the whole time, but you still are fascinated to see it in action. Between the two of us we cleared away most of the food in comfortable silence. Loki kept periodically checking his phone.</p><p>        “Eye for an eye.” I said to him eventually, after my stomach was appeased, “I get one honest answer to a question and you get one back from me.”</p><p>        “Fine,” Loki nodded, “you first.”</p><p>        “Why do you want to go with me to this stupid thing?” I asked, “I get that Lisa is not in the picture anymore and going alone looks odd, but why me? You must know any number of women who you could take with you as your date.”</p><p>        He paused for a moment before replying, “Not as many as you may think. I am quite unpleasant, you know.”</p><p>        I had to bite my tongue so as not to snipe back at that rare moment of self awareness.</p><p>        We exchanged a humorous glance before Loki continued, “but that is beside the main point, which is that I trust you more and going with you would require telling the least amount of lies. I am quite fond of lying and do so habitually, but even for me going with someone else would require keeping my guard up continuously and that is a lot of exhaustive mental labor. I am not especially keen on dwelling on my current situation at this particular moment.” He emptied his cup with one last sip of tea, neatly placed it back onto its saucer and added, in a slightly softer voice, “And I suppose it should be said that I like spending time with you, any dull evening can be made more bearable by a good partner in crime.”</p><p>        That last part almost made we melt off the stool and seep onto the floor, but instead I pulled myself together, I threw on a tone of mock exasperation, and said:</p><p>        “Oh, all right! I’ll go to the stupid thing with you, but if I eat the appetizer with the wrong salad fork or bow to the wrong queen or something it’ll be on your head for bringing a dirty American hell-beast along.”</p><p>        “I am in your debt, darling.” Said Loki with a lopsided smile.</p><p>        “I’m pretty sure the ten thousand dollars worth of stuff evens us out somewhat,” I replied caustically. “Incidentally, I’ll need to get my hair done and I doubt your apartment has curlers. Unless that’s how you get your hair to do that wavy thing at the back of your neck.”</p><p>        “It only does that if it gets long,” he sighed absentmindedly as he got up and started clearing away the dishes. “I suppose I need a haircut as well. The basement level of this complex has all sorts of shops and there is a barbershop and a salon. You can just tell them to send the bill to my address.”</p><p>        “No.” I said gently, after thinking it over, “I would prefer to pay for that myself.”</p><p>        Loki gave me a surprised look, “It will be very expensive” he warned and I smiled at that.</p><p>        “Yes, I’m aware what swanky salons charge for makeovers, better than you probably. But I would still prefer to cover the cost of it.”</p><p>        He considered my reply for a fraction of a second, then nodded and went back to loading the dishes into the dishwasher. I got to my feet and helped him clean up. After we were done, I leaned back on the counter and asked what time the dinner was.</p><p>        “At 8pm, we should probably get there sometime after 7:30,” replied Loki.</p><p>        “So I have to make the hair appointment for maybe 5 pm,” I said mildly. “Leaving us with about five hours of free time to whittle away.”</p><p>        “Oh, what did you have in mind, darling?” his voice was smooth and just a little sinful.</p><p>        Pushing away from the counter I sauntered up to him slowly until we were standing just a few inches apart. I stood on my tip-toes and whispered:</p><p>        “We could get at least 3 sets of exercises done,” to him.</p><p>        “You utter shrew,” he said calmly after a second of pause.</p><p>        “I know, right?” I smiled as I took a step back, “cheer up, if we finish early, I can give you a massage!”  </p><p>        “I have work to do.”</p><p>        “Yea, so do I,” my index finger tapped him lightly on his injured shoulder.</p><p>        “This is my payback, is it not?” he scowled, looming over me. It was somehow a lot less intimidating than it used to be. This must be how tiger tamers get mauled. </p><p>        “Partly,” I agreed. “But I am also loath to abandon my duties and hinder your recovery and you know it.”</p><p>        Loki made a scoffing notice and stalked past me, still slightly fuming. In the living room area, I helped him stretch and we did what exercises we could. As time went on Loki’s initial grumpiness dissipated and I suspected there was not much of it there to begin with. The whole thing took just over two hours, leaving plenty of time for massage and rest.</p><p>        Which is how I found myself in Loki’s bedroom.</p><p>        It was a corner room and much bigger than the guest rooms. Two exposed brick walls were decorated with several pieces of filigreed bronze art similar to the disks above the bookshelves in the living room. Instead of the neat white sets of modern furniture the room was filled with mismatched antiques that somehow suited each other and the space they were in. A single large watercolor of a spare basalt canyon hung above a long apothecary-style dresser with many worn cubby holes and drawers. A enormous brass Victorian-style bed with a tall headboard of twisted metal stood on a plush green rug. There were two doors to the right, one leading to a long walk-in closet and another to an en suite bathroom. One corner of the room had a full-length mirror in an impressive wooden frame. The space beside it was oddly empty, I wondered if a vanity or something similar stood there once.  </p><p><em>        Ghosts of a relationship are worse than the breakup itself. </em>I thought as I watched Loki stretch out on his bed. <em>At least when Craig left, I moved to a smaller place and never had the issue of my own home haunting me with memories.</em></p><p>
  <em>        And yet he’s so terribly fond of this place.  </em>
</p><p>        As usual I massaged the legs first and then arms, shoulders and back. The whole time I was standing by the side of Loki’s bed. When I finished up, he turned towards me said:</p><p>        “Do the other kind, would you? I am still stiff from the plane ride.”</p><p>        The reply left my mouth before my brain had a chance to vet it, “can I get on top of you? It’s easier that way.”</p><p>        “Why darling, I thought you shall never ask,” Loki muttered with a smile as he shifted himself slightly to the center of the bed.</p><p>        I pinched his arm just above the elbow and settled just over his thighs. He chuckled into the pillow and a jolt of desire ran right through me like a bolt of lighting.</p><p>
  <em>        Well this was a bad idea, there's a reason why professional therapists don’t do it this way, you numbscull!</em>
</p><p>        Serious focus went into keeping myself on track and after some time, as my hands worked on the knots between the shoulder blades, I said, “You never asked me a question back.”</p><p>        "I know,” Loki said sleepily into the sheets, “I’m banking it.”</p><p>        He was way more tired than he led on. Under me I felt his limbs sag and his body relax. He wasn’t asleep, but he was dozing when I finished. I slipped off gently, got a blanket from the foot of the bed and covered him with it. Leaning over, I adjusted the pillow so that he would not be sore after waking up and then, just as I was about to leave, Loki's hand reached out for mine and stilled me.</p><p>        “Stay,” he mumbled, clearly half-asleep. “You're also tired. Sleep some, before it’s time to go.”</p><p>        <em>Christ, now this is a downright </em>terrible <em>idea.</em></p><p>        And yet I didn’t hesitate. I could have easily told Loki that I’d sleep in my room. I could have told him a million things, but instead I just laid down next to him, over-top the same blanket that he lay under. My back was to him but I was close enough to feel his slow breathing and the slight warmth of his body. My eyes drifted shut. Loki was right, I was much more tired than I led on too.</p><p>        I was asleep in seconds.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had to recall atomic orbitals for this fic, never thought I'd see that day!</p><p>"If walls could talk" by Lucy Worsley is a real book that I highly recommend if you are a fan of history. <br/>BBC also made a four part documentary based on it which is very fun.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Back and Forth.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Waking up was a disorienting experience. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings and when I finally remembered where I was and why, I scrambled in a panic to see the time. Thankfully it was just after 4pm, so at least we did not oversleep horrendously. With that initial panic subsiding, I was left to agonize over our positioning on the bed.</p>
<p>        Either in his sleep or just before he nodded off, Loki turned to his side. The blanket over him got pulled slightly lower and I ended up with my back against his naked chest and his right arm was draped over my rib cage. His long fingers slightly clutched at the wrinkled duvet just a few inches from my stomach. I could feel the warmth of his body along the curve of my spine and his slow steady breathing against the back of my neck. I’m sure I’d be able to hear his heartbeat if it were not for my own suddenly badly echoing in my ears. As comforting as it is to wake up in the arms of another, what the hell was I doing?</p>
<p>        “This means as much, or as little, as you let it mean.” Said a calm, if slightly sleepy, voice in my ear. Loki’s right hand slipped away and he rolled onto his back and away from me. I keenly missed the warmth around me and glancing back, I saw Loki stretch like a cat among Egyptian cotton sheets. With the blanket only at his waist I glimpsed quite a lot of slightly bruised pale skin and sinuous muscle. Turning away, I sat up and self-consciously pulled at my clothes to straighten them.</p>
<p>        “I need help with the t-shirt before you go,” asked Loki, now too sitting up.</p>
<p>        Nodding, I got to my feet and came around to the other side on the bed. There was a plain dark green t-shirt draped over his nightstand and it was far more closely fitting than the loose white tents he wore back at Thor’s house. Loki still had limited mobility in his right arm, particularly at the shoulder, so he often needed assistance getting dressed with anything that needed to be pulled over his head. As I stood between his long legs and helped him, our eyes met and we stared at each other for one, two, three seconds. Loki’s brilliant blue-green eyes were suddenly vague and uncertain and I got the feeling he wanted to tell me something.</p>
<p>        “What is it?” I asked finally, when no comment or question came.</p>
<p>        His eyes fluttered closed, as if he knew they were betraying him and he shook his head.</p>
<p>        “Not now, I think” he replied.</p>
<p>        I reached out and smoothed the hair on the left side of his head, where it was all sticking out in different directions.</p>
<p>        “Okay,” I nodded. “Our appointments are both for 5pm, we should probably head out soon, so I’m going to go change.”</p>
<p>        Loki leaned into my hand a little, just a little, just enough to make me doubt if he did it at all. Just enough for me to want to never remove my hand from the living inky silk between my fingers. Finally, he nodded as well and I withdrew my hand and I slipped out of his bedroom and back into my guest room. I pulled off my wrinkly workout clothes and put on a nice pair of jeans and a top with printed flowers on it. After splashing some water on my face and drying off I took a good look at myself in the mirror but was beyond trying to analyze what the hell I was doing in any sort of detail. So after tucking away some loose strands of hair I grabbed my purse and met Loki in the hallway.</p>
<p>        The high-rise Loki lived in had an entire underground level below the main floor and it was basically a mall with every kind of store one could imagine. There were shops, cafes and delis, a grocery store, dry cleaners and even branches of several banks. The ceiling above was made up of frosted glass and lit up in way that simulated outdoor light. According to Loki, this underground level was shared by several apartment buildings all built immediately next to each other. You could, theoretically, exist here for years without the need to go outside provided you had the money. Not having a clue about where to go and quickly disoriented, I stayed close to Loki as he easily navigated the place, walking this way and that before finally stopping under an awning of a storefront.</p>
<p>        “I am going that way,” he said and pointed further down the walkway. “The barbershop is a few shops down and to the right of here. The salon is over there.” He pointed at a nearby storefront with all the glass, chrome and dignity of the UN building. “When we are both done, we can just meet up back here.”</p>
<p>        I gave him a level stare, “Loki, you do realize you will be done literally hours before me, right?”</p>
<p>        He gave that some thought before conceding, “Fine, give me your phone number, we can just text each other when we become available.”</p>
<p>        “Okay,” I said and rattled off the number to my budget Motorola, “but my plan is awful, so don’t go nuts.”</p>
<p>        “Do I ever?” Loki gave me a suspiciously innocent smile, stuffed his hands into his suit jacket and stalked off. </p>
<p>        <em>Despite every other stupid thing, I am damn good at my job</em>, I thought as I watched him go. He walked evenly and with a confident gait, no one watching him would ever guess that four months ago he was partly in traction. Realizing I was staring, I crossed the walkway and pulled on the glass doors of the salon.</p>
<p>        They had a waterfall.</p>
<p>        The smell of fresh hazelnut coffee wafted throughout the place.</p>
<p>        That’s the level of money I was dealing with. Now, by this point I had made peace with the fact that I was going to be out a month’s rent for one night of beatification, but this was on a whole other level. As I made my way to the reception desk, I was frantically trying to remember how close to the limit I was on my credit card. The last thing I needed now was for it to be declined. Lucky for me I had a decent limit on it and living in Thor’s house, which had all imaginable amenities provided, resulted in very few purchases for me in the last several months. Occasional sushi dinner not withstanding.</p>
<p>        A smiling goddess of a woman greeted me at reception and upon finding out I had an appointment led me into a waiting area and was told that Charlotte will be right with me. Charlotte turned out to be a bubbly twenty-something in a white lab coat looking smock. The ends of her short blond hair were dyed a deep shade of purple. When she asked me what I was looking to do, I just flipped through my phone to show her the photo of the dress laid out upstairs on the guestroom bed.</p>
<p>        “Oh love, that is gorgeous! You need something to go with that then? All right, let’s see what we’re working with.”</p>
<p>        She led me to her station in the far corner for the room and started to pull apart the braid coiled around my head.</p>
<p>        <em>Ding. </em></p>
<p>        I glanced at the phone still in my hand.</p>
<p>- <strong>I hope you got there all right, darling</strong> (5:01pm)</p>
<p>        Frowning, I swiped the message away. Charlotte finished letting down my hair and ran her hands through it. A pleasant shiver ran up my neck as her firm, steady fingers massaged my scalp. Aside from the practical aspects behind it, my tight braid was mostly a concession to my hair’s propensity to frizz. You could get it to behave but it required a lot of effort and expensive products. I did have a good deal of it though; it went down to my elbows in thick, chocolate-brown bunches.</p>
<p>        “Oh, you’ve got lovely hair,” said Charlotte serenely, “would you like it styled up or down in tresses?”</p>
<p>        “Down, I think,” I said while looking at my reflection. “Day-to-day I always have it up.”</p>
<p>
  <em>        Ding.</em>
</p>
<p>- <strong>I do worry about you so</strong> (5:05pm)</p>
<p>        I rubbed the bridge of my nose and tried to will my blood pressure down. Resigned, I turned my cellphone on silent and made every effort to focus on Charlotte’s lovely, chatty drawl. This was really something I should have seen coming. It was close to an hour and some very expensive treatments later that I finally had the courage to glance at my phone again.</p>
<p>- <strong>I think I might get coffee after this</strong> (5:08pm)</p>
<p>- <strong>Or is that too much caffeine for me?</strong> (5:11pm)</p>
<p>-<strong> I would not want to hamper my recovery</strong> (5:15pm)</p>
<p>- <strong>I am nearly done already</strong> (5:22pm)</p>
<p>- <strong>All finished.</strong> (5:28pm)</p>
<p>-<strong> I passed the salon and could not even see you</strong> (5:35pm)</p>
<p>- <strong>What do they do to you all in there?</strong> (5:41pm)</p>
<p>- <strong>All the terms sound quite frightening</strong> (5:42pm)</p>
<p>- <strong>I shall definitely get that coffee now</strong> (5:45pm)</p>
<p><strong>- What is a balayage I wonder?</strong> (5:46pm)</p>
<p><strong>- The girl in front of me in line keeps saying she wants one</strong> (5:46pm)</p>
<p><strong>- She is talking on the phone, you see</strong> (5:46pm)</p>
<p><strong>- Is it a kind of dog?</strong> (5:48pm)</p>
<p><strong>STOP. YOU. MASSIVE. SHITSTAIN.</strong> (5:50pm) -</p>
<p><strong>- Language, darling</strong> (5:51pm)</p>
<p>
  <strong>I am turning my phone back to silent, but </strong>
</p>
<p><strong>I want you to know that I will find </strong> <strong>the rustiest </strong></p>
<p><strong>pair of scissors in this place and for </strong> <strong>every text I get </strong></p>
<p>
  <strong>from you I will stab you once in the right knee. </strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Got it?</strong> (5:54pm) -</p>
<p><strong>- Definitely</strong> (6:05pm)</p>
<p><strong>- Completely</strong> (6:05pm)</p>
<p><strong>- Utterly</strong> (6:06pm)</p>
<p><strong>- Worth it</strong> (6:06pm)</p>
<p><strong>- My dearest</strong> (6:06pm)</p>
<p><strong>- Darling</strong> (6:07pm)</p>
<p>        Loki didn’t end it there, oh no, that was just the end of the text messages that had text in them. He then sent seven more with just random emojis and one with an attached photo of the fancy coffee he was having.</p>
<p>        When Charlotte finished styling my hair it became a mass of loose waves and curls pulled back and pinned up just a little to give the whole thing an impression of a casual cascade. Then, an even younger creature of pure joy and happiness named Poppy did my makeup and even gave me the tube of lipstick she used to take with me. It would have been a generous throw-in if I didn’t know that all together the bill for this two-hour friendly, chatty pampering session was going to be in the upper triple digits.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Oh, to hell with it, I enjoyed it and I never get to do stuff like this. </em>
</p>
<p>        In fact, I was 90% certain that if I were to ever get married my wedding would be less to-do than this dinner thing was turning out to be. Why not live it up for one night? Therefore, I parted with my hard-earned money easily and tipped generously since I really wasn’t sure what the etiquette on that was in the UK. Still in the foyer of the salon I shot a text to Loki. </p>
<p><strong>I’m done, you utter raging nuisance, where are you?</strong> (6:23pm) -</p>
<p><strong>- Walk from the salon towards the Bank of Scotland.</strong> (6:24pm)</p>
<p><strong>- There is a Café next to it.</strong> (6:25pm)</p>
<p><strong>- I am at a table at the very back.</strong> (6:25pm)</p>
<p>        And so he was, his hair was well styled and neatly trimmed but still left a little long. He was reading and replying to work e-mails on his phone from the look of it. How he managed to do that and annoy me by hiking up my poor phone bill, I had no idea. Truly, the man was a gifted multitasker.</p>
<p>        “I can feel you glaring” he said without looking up, voice highly amused. “I lost count; how many rusty stabs am I about to get?”</p>
<p>        I threw my purse on the table as I sat down across from him. “The salon was too posh for rusty scissors. Have no fear, I’ll improvise something.”</p>
<p>        “Posh?” Loki’s eyebrows inched up although he still hasn’t looked up from the screen.</p>
<p>        “The girl who put my face on also taught me some British slang. Apparently, she’s from Essex and so knows all the best ones.”</p>
<p>        “I bet she is and I bet she does,” he lowered his phone and glanced up.</p>
<p>        I’m not so vain as to say he gaped, but he did stare a little. I tipped for a reason. I looked good.   </p>
<p>        “Very nice.” Loki said after a second of pause, he put his phone down to do it, in modern times that’s how you know the guy means it. “Where has all that hair been hiding?”</p>
<p>        “Mine is not the type of career in which long loose hair is an asset,” I shrugged.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Ding. </em>
</p>
<p>        I glared at Loki and he raised his hands defensively, “Not me this time.”  </p>
<p>        Digging through my purse, I fished out my phone and checked my messages.</p>
<p>        “It’s American Express, they texted me to confirm my recent purchase. Apparently spending money on ludicrously expensive frivolities in another country is somewhat of a red flag. Good to know the system works, I guess.” I sent back a confirmation text, put the phone down and asked, “Shouldn’t we be heading back? Where is this dinner anyway? Does it take long to get there?”</p>
<p>        “Not far from here,” Loki swiped to unlock his phone and showed me the location on Google maps. It was relatively close, but because the streets of London were so winding and traffic so bad it would take us about 20 min to get there. After Loki finished the last of his coffee, we got to our feet and started back towards the apartment through the winding underground maze of shops.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Loki trolling an OC with text messages is actually one of the first ideas I had. The story pretty much grew from it. <br/>It was a lot of fun trying to come up with the sort of pranks Loki could get up to in a magic-less world. </p>
<p>Seidr or no seidr Loki will always be a shit. This is why we love him.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. On Loan.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        “Will you need help getting dressed?” I asked after we came back to the apartment.</p><p>        “Possibly, I am not certain," replied Loki.</p><p>        “Well, just yell down the hallway if you need anything, I’m going to get ready in the meantime.” I said as I walked up the stairs and into the guestroom.</p><p>        I had to shimmy out of the blouse by pulling it down over my hips so as not to ruin the hair. It didn’t take long for me to get dressed, although getting myself into the gown required a bit of acrobatics. Completely arbitrarily, I was unwilling to ask Loki for help zipping it up, an admittedly silly line to draw, given that I cuddled up next to him for a nap just a few hours before, but here we are. After putting on the shoes and laying out the coat I unpacked the clutch and started putting things into it – cellphone, lipstick, compact. When that was done, I took the coat and bag downstairs, legs slightly wobbly in the new shoes.</p><p>
  <em>        Man, my feet are going be murdered tonight. </em>
</p><p>        I thought as I made it back up to the second floor, carefully holding up the silk hem of gown. The pumps were not worn in and I didn’t have any stockings.</p><p>        <em>Egh, it’s not like I’ll be dancing the night away. </em></p><p>        My mission for tonight was primarily to make sure Loki’s reconstructed knee didn’t give out. He had a cloth brace for his leg and there was tight binding on his chest but excessive strain could still do some damage. Especially if the injured person is a stubborn idiot who doesn’t want to show even a moment of weakness and will try to power through just about any level of pain.</p><p>        I was standing on the landing, just outside the guestroom, when the door to the master bedroom opened and Loki emerged in a tailored three-piece dark navy suit. Evidently, he managed without my help, underneath the suit he had on a light blue dress shirt and a cream-colored tie. Against that ensemble the blue quality of his eyes and the soot-dark color of his hair stood out particularly well. I just stood there and looked at him for a good few seconds in stunned silence.</p><p>        <em>Damn.</em></p><p>        “Damn.”</p><p>        He chuckled at my reaction and maybe even preened a little, but what else was there to say? The suit accentuated his narrow hips, slight waist and broad shoulders, it highlighted his impossible height and gave him an elegant, almost untouchable air.</p><p>        It also made me want to rip it right off of him. Right now. In this hallway.</p><p>        I turned away. Under the pretense of closing the door to the guestroom I turned away because I had to. I needed those vital moments to arrange my face into something less … eager.</p><p>        “You were all right without me after all,” I said finally, to end the silence that was starting to form. Having gotten myself under control I glanced back up and Loki was still staring at me, but his face was harder than ever to read.</p><p>        “I just need your help with the shoes,” he said finally.</p><p>        <em>Oh, he’s still in his socks. And I didn’t even notice. Christ, I really need to calm the fuck down before I make a complete fool of myself. </em></p><p>        “Sure, I can give you a hand.”</p><p>        In his bedroom the box that the suit came in was strewn on the floor. Loki’s phone and an open velvet box containing cuff links and a matching tie clip lay on the bed. A pair of shiny brown leather dress shoes were neatly placed on the floor. Loki slipped his feet into them and sat down on the edge of the bed and I kneeled to tie the laces. As I did the silk of the dress fluttered out to form a shimmering oval all around me. When I finished and looked up to see Loki still watching me with those fathomless eyes and a little excited shiver ran up my spine. I got to my feet and for the second time today found myself standing between his long stork-like legs. Reaching over to the right I picked up a cuff link from the velvet box, pulled at his right sleeve a little and slipped it in place. Then I did the same with the left sleeve and Loki let me without surprise or hesitation. The cuff links were yellow gold squares with a malachite center.</p><p>        “You have more jewelry than me,” I said mildly as I reached for the tie pin. “My studs are white gold at least, they will have to do.”</p><p>        The pin was gold with stripes of malachite as well. After I finished fastening it I straightened out his tie and finally took a step back.  </p><p>        “I actually have something you could wear, but I would ask you to be careful with them and give them back right away,” said Loki as he got to his feet.</p><p>        He walked past me and into his seemingly vast walk-in closet. I may have heard an echo from in there, so I was never going to get a better chance than this. Seizing his phone off the bed I fiddled with it for a few moments before putting it back. Only a few seconds later Loki came back, holding a worn wooden box which he opened to reveal a pair of diamond and pearl pear drop earrings. The stones glimmered beautifully in the midday light; I blew a whistle.</p><p>        “Hmm yes, they belonged to my mother,” said Loki somewhat sadly. “When I still thought Lisa and I would marry, I took them out of the safety deposit box because I thought she might like to have them for the wedding. But we never got that far and with the accident I never got the chance to put them back.”</p><p>        “Are you sure you’re okay with me wearing them?” I asked warily.</p><p>        “Why not?" Shrugged Loki easily, "Jewelry is meant to be worn after all, I am only asking you to be careful with them.”</p><p>        I considered refusing for a good solid moment, but it was a kind gesture on his part and it would only be for a few hours. And they were very beautiful. I took out my studs and put the earrings on. They were very heavy and it took me some time to get used to the feeling of them as I’m not used to wearing dangling, hefty jewels or even costume jewelry. Loki glanced at the time on his cellphone, but to my relief did not try to unlock his phone. My hope was that he would make the discovery a little later.</p><p>        “We should head out,” he said. “The car will be at the entrance in 15 minutes”</p><p>        We made our way down the stairs and put our coats on. Loki’s was a Burberry too and it subtly matched the beige color of his tie. I watched him put away the invitation, his wallet and cellphone into the coat pockets and lock up. When we entered the empty elevator, I suddenly came face-to-face with my own reflection in the perfectly polished floor length mirror next to the button panel.</p><p>        I didn’t recognize myself.</p><p>        I knew all the steps it took for me to get here and yet when I saw this figure in designer shoes and a runway dress and a three <em>thousand</em> dollar coat, wearing vintage diamond earrings and standing next to the most beautiful man in possibly all of the world I was overwhelmed with the desire to laugh hysterically. A wave of anxiety hit me like a sack of doorknobs.</p><p>
  <em>        Oh God in Heaven, what am I doing here?</em>
</p><p>        My chest suddenly felt so tightly constricted by the bodice of the dress that I felt suffocated in it. My hands started to shake, my fingers felt dead cold. I realized that I was about to have a panic attack right there in the elevator! I tried to reach for some coping mechanism but came up blank and that made my heart rate skyrocket even more.</p><p>        Loki’s hand gently landed on my shoulder and broke me from the jail of my own panicked thoughts. He was looking at me in the mirror and his eyes were calm and concerned and almost little sad. He stood close behind me, lifted a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear.</p><p>        “You look lovely,” he said simply.</p><p>        Reaching back for his hand I found the tips of Loki’s fingers and squeezed them slightly in gratitude. The elevator came to a stop in the front lobby of the building. Although he was closer to the exit, Loki didn’t move. His eyes met mine in the mirror and there was an obvious question in them now. In lieu of an answer I gave him a smile, straightened my back and walked out into the hallway and towards the exit without a second thought. Loki easily fell into step next to me only a moment later. We got into a black cab that was already waiting for us and it carefully drifted forward and eventually merged with the evening traffic.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The dinner is going to be the next few chapters,</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Past and Present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        According to Loki, the level of posh-ness of any event can be determined by the kind of whiskey they carry at the open bar. This place had a 21-year-old Glenlivet and I’ve never seen Loki more at peace than when he settled at the bar with a heavy tumbler full of it.</p><p>        “Christ,” I muttered to him, while fiddling with my glass of Rum-and-coke-hold-the-rum. “You settled there like a ship that reached shore.”</p><p>        “After some very stormy travels, I might add” he agreed, his tone mild.</p><p>        “I suppose this would be a bad time to point out to you that you should not be drinking alcohol?”</p><p>        “Please, if I am seen out and about without a drink in my hand and a shrew on my arm, it will look highly suspicious and out of character.”</p><p>        “Well then, I’m glad you managed to arrange for a replacement shrew on such short notice,” I sniped. “And in the interest of appearance that must me maintained lest the shares plummet, shouldn’t we agree on a cover story? What if someone asks who I am? Should I say I’m the lucky winner of the Adopt-a-poor-person Lottery? A pious daughter of an evangelical US senator? A fallen woman you are teaching about Jesus?”</p><p>        “Goodness, that last one,” purred Loki from above the rim of the glass with a smirk and a dangerously fun gleam in his eyes. “It need not be so complex, I often find that the simplest lie, comprised primarily of the gently massaged truth, is best. You are a family friend and you work in the healthcare field; you cared for our father in the last years of his life and aided me somewhat during my recovery from a minor car accident. As you are American, it will be assumed by most here that you know me and my brother through darling Valkyrie and her highly athletic crowd. I would cultivate that assumption rather than reject it.”</p><p>        “Why do you call her that?” I asked, “Is it just because it’s her brand name?”</p><p>        “Oh no, it’s her brand name <em>because</em> I call her that. I gave her that nickname ages ago when Thor, clearly smitten past all reason, introduced us at a 2012 London Olympics party he dragged me to. She hates it, but took it for her company anyway because it suits her business brand and that is just the kind of person she is. I can respect that.”</p><p>        “What is it with you guys and difficult women?” I joked.</p><p>        “In our position it is hard to find a person who will freely contradict you in matters either business or personal. Meanwhile, with the right partner, sparring can be such a refreshing and enjoyable pastime.”</p><p>        “Verbal sparring or … the other kind?” I asked as I took a sip. </p><p>        “Both,” Loki's grin was nearly a leer. “Simultaneously, if circumstances, preferences and equipment permits.”</p><p>        “Down boy,” I laughed. “I'm guessing that can land you in a lot trouble.”</p><p>        “It already has, if you remember,” he said, his mood becoming more sober.</p><p>        “Well,” I said, my voice dropping a little even though there was hardly anyone else at the bar, “from what little I saw of her, your former lady-friend seemed stuck up as hell but perceptive enough to probably see through the layers of your crap. I could see you guys being a decent couple, in your own way. Though I bet she’s the type to never tip the peasants who bring her food or clean her clothes.”</p><p>         I largely meant that comment to be in jest but something about it made Loki turn more serious. He stared straight ahead at the rows of bottles lined up behind the bar for a moment and then made a face, the gesture was seemingly directed at himself.</p><p>        “So much of what Lisa is now, makes far more sense if you know her past,” he said finally. “Which, as an American you no doubt do not. Ironically making you one of the very few people Lisa should have liked from the get go, had she not grown so used to automatic and defensive vitriol from an early age. Her father was a very popular Tory MP you see, a conservative member of parliament elected in the 80s with a mildly ennobled wife and a squeaky clean reputation. And like so many such Tory MPs he got caught in a massive personal scandal in the mid 90s.”</p><p>        “How massive?”</p><p>        “Oh, you know, prostitutes, alcohol, drugs, cars. Misappropriation of funds on all of the above. There was a tape, there is somehow always a tape. One of the escorts, in need of cash and notoriety sold the details to the press. Precisely what parts of her not unimpressive figure the cocaine was sniffed off of and precisely on which church carpark. That sort of thing. It was one of those stories that was just salacious enough to live on in jokes for years.”</p><p>        "Like the Lewinsky Scandal,” I guessed.</p><p>        “Precisely,” nodded Loki. “Chat shows got a lot of good laughs out of it and lots of scum sold a lot of lurid papers out of it, but she was only a child at the time and was humiliated and traumatized by the whole thing. Her mother left her father as a result and there is a mildly infamous photo of her carrying Lisa out of their home on an early morning a few days after the scandal broke. She was still in her nightie and slippers being bundled into a cab. She was only six years old at the time. Some paparazzi bellend snapped it and some editor bellend ran it on the front page and that was her introduction to society.”</p><p>        I winced.</p><p>        “So naturally, she grew up in shadow of all that. And it made her hard, it made her mean, it made her fight tooth and nail for everything in her life that was hers to begin with; respect, standing, status, security. She had to develop a very hard shell very quickly or be eaten. So she could be quite caring with those she loved, but it was buried deep down and locked away, where almost no one could see it. When I told her …”</p><p>        Loki paused and I nodded, as if to say I understood. </p><p>        “I thought she would understand and sympathize" he continued, "and maybe on a basic, human level she did. But I think the thought of it all being discovered and of being put in the public eye along with me as the story gets dragged through the dirt for years and years was just too much. Being in the middle of a family squabble again, for the rest of her life fighting for status and money <em>again.</em> The prospect of a life like that, made her blink, made her pull away. On the one hand one cannot fault her for such a kneejerk reaction, but Hell alive, did it hurt!”</p><p>        He raised the glass as if to drain it all in one go but stopped himself at the last moment, reconsidered and put it back down.</p><p>        <em>So at least he has the good sense not to do that.</em></p><p>        I thought, but out loud I pointed out, “That’s not what you told her in the garden,”</p><p>        “I am an inveterate asshole, not an idiot,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “She knows now, what good is to be gained from me raking up her past out of spite? Only harm. She will forever be tempted by this information, why give her the excuse to use it against me now when she is in a financial bind? That day in the garden, I picked my words carefully. What I chose to say will rile her up, make her angry, but it will not wound or humiliate her and should she find success as an author again, purely out of spite towards me, I can live with that."</p><p>        He sighed and then added after some thought,</p><p>        "In truth there was plenty wrong with us and she cannot be blamed for the entirely of it. Yes, she did grow financially dependent on me and prized the status and money our relationship brought her. I noticed and had my suspicions but chose to bury rather than confront them. It is true that she did not know my family well enough to know they would not turn on me, but I never introduced her to any of them in any sort of significant way, so how could she? I wanted someone I could trust so badly ... it should have been obvious from the beginning it was never going to be her. I should have trusted my own judgement.”</p><p>        "Loki, I do believe that is the first true moment of serious self reflection I've even see you do," I said with some humor. "I'll be damned, before this moment I wouldn't have thought it possible!"</p><p>        "I am entirely capable of self-criticism, I simply choose not to engage in it."</p><p>        "Not ever?"</p><p>        "I am a reasonably rich, sartorially gifted, fabulously good looking libidinous voluptuary with the capability to be excessively charming if the occasion calls for it. Which means, most times, self-criticism is not required." </p><p>        His smile was roguish and blithe and earnest with just a hint self-awareness buried so far down you could hardly feel it.</p><p>        "You are prodigiously, exquisitely and unsurpassingly full of shit." I said and put some good conviction it and all he did was chuckle in return. </p><p>        We sat in relaxed silence for a time and watched the flow of people in perfect suits and gowns reflected back at us in the many pristine mirrors of the bar. People came and went, broke off and joined different groups, chatted, laughed, exchanged what I assumed were pleasantries. We were slowly being enveloped in the ever rising din of the crowd and the low soft sounds of the background music being piped in from God only knows where. It was an old building with a slight pre-both-world-wars feel to it but just enough modern amenities and decor that you couldn't be sure. I fiddled with the napkin that came with my drink. It was soft as silk and embossed with silver curlicues. I traced them with my finger and wondered if it mattered that my nails weren't done. </p><p>        "It does not," said Loki suddenly making me jump.</p><p>        "What?"</p><p>        "Your back stiffened up again," he said mildly. "Whatever you are thinking that makes you feel lesser in such a place, no it does not matter. A good half of these people are deplorable and another quarter are merely insufferable. The rest are much like you, professionals with far better things to do, that understand this sort of unfortunate thing must be suffered through. It suits me very much that you are here but it is almost a waste of your time."</p><p>        "Is there good food here?"</p><p>        "I have no reason to suspect otherwise," he assured me.</p><p>        "Then we're good. I'll sit through a pitch for a timeshare in Hell for free food."</p><p>        "Ah yes, a woman with strong Persephone sensibilities, what could go wrong?"</p><p>        "What's wrong with Hades anyway? Guy or place? The place is always busy and you meet interesting people and your mother doesn't drop by unannounced. The guy has a job that's always in demand and is quite high up on the ladder. Not terribly sociable but good with dogs. I've worked with a lot less for a lot longer before hanging it up."</p><p>        Both of Loki's eyebrows shot up, "just how abysmal is your personal life?" he asked.</p><p>        "I draw the line at He Lives In A Van," I told him and enjoyed the sight of a plethora of horrified questions clearly forming in his mind when he heard that statement.</p><p>        When, suddenly, I felt Loki tense up.</p><p>        “Hell,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>        "What is it?” I asked.</p><p>        “Slowly turn fully back towards the bar,” he said and his voice was hard and quiet.</p><p>        I obeyed, careful to look casual.</p><p>        “Look in the mirror in front of you,” he continued, “you see behind us and just a bit to the right, a man is standing by the column and next to him a woman in a satin black dress?”</p><p>        It took me a moment to find the pair he was talking about.</p><p>        “Tall, big-ish squinting greying guy with the chin? Blue tie? She’s tall and off blonde?” I asked in a whisper. The pair were standing around talking quietly and I could only see both of their faces in profile. From where I was sitting, they looked completely ordinary, just a couple like a hundred other couples moving through the crowd.   </p><p>        “His name is Morgan Priestly. His wife Cecile is next to him. Do not speak to them in any capacity, not even one word, do not thank them if they pass you the butter, got it?”</p><p>        Loki’s voice was hard and emphatic, I glanced at him and saw real venom in his eyes.</p><p>        “Let me guess – The Bellend Editor?” That was a bit of a shot in the dark, but Loki’s eyebrows rose at that and he gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement.</p><p>        “Something to that effect. We are not friends. Part of it is my association with Lisa, but him and the Odinsons have never gotten along even without that. He is not involved with any papers officially at the moment, but he still has plenty of friends in all the right septic tanks and an unfortunately large social media presence and he has been circulating rumors about my disappearance for months.”</p><p>        “He may not see us,” I ventured.</p><p>        “My guess is, he already has, but will try to catch us later and when we are apart.”</p><p>        Just then a large crowd of last-minute arrivals filtered in and I lost track of the couple in the mirror. “I guess I’ll have to stick close to you then,” I smiled and sipped my drink primly.  </p><p>        Loki’s mood had soured but he smiled at that, finished his drink and got a refill before getting to his feet. More and more people were coming through the hall and into the now open doors of the atrium where I could see many round tables shimmer with pricey tableware. Still holding the tumbler of whiskey in one hand he offered me his arm with a very devilish grin as I slipped off the barstool. My hand slid up and came to rest just above the elbow.</p><p>        “The things I’m forced to do to preserve your appearances!” I whispered to him sardonically as we walked into the glittering ballroom.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don't date dudes who live in Vans.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Words and Deeds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        I really lucked out.</p><p>        All the dinner tables seated eight people. Loki was to my right, so my biggest concern while sitting down was who would end up on my left. However, due to the magnitude of the financial contribution and the level of involvement the Odinson family had in the cause (both of which Loki downplayed to me considerably), we were sitting at the front among the hospital staff. I could easily talk with people in the medical profession all day long and the person sitting next to me turned out to be the head of cardiology at the Royal London Hospital. He was a slight Middle Eastern man with grey hair and a very pleasant manner, he was seated with his daughter who was a medical student. We all ended up chatting very easily and naturally.</p><p>        There were speeches, there was clapping, an Irish comedian did a bit at the very end, prompt waiters served course after course of delicious food and cleared away dishes without so much as making the forks clamor against the fine china. Wine glasses were refilled with an almost magical promptness. There was a dessert table that I fully intended to descend upon as soon as I had the chance to do so and a live band that played soft jazz in the background during the dinner and broke into the louder stuff after it was cleared away.</p><p>        I was just about to relax when Loki leaned over and whispered in my ear over a rendition of <em>Rhapsody in Blue</em>, “and now comes the worst part.”</p><p>        “Huh?” I turned to him but didn't get a chance to ask any questions as a middle-aged woman in a sparkling silver gown and wearing quite a lot of suspiciously real looking emeralds appeared out of nowhere.</p><p>        “Loki, my dear!” She said in an extremely even, almost stern voice. “How good to see you! I have been hearing all sorts of nonsense but look at you, you look so well!”</p><p>        Loki got to his feet and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek. They chatted, she was introduced to me as a Mrs. Somersby and eyed me with the utmost suspicion before ultimately moving on.</p><p>        “Why did she look at me like I owe her money?” I whispered to Loki.</p><p>        “Partly out of habit,” he replied. “A lot of people owe her money, but also possibly because she knew my mother and likely recognized those earrings.”</p><p>        “Awkward.”</p><p>        “That cannot be helped now,” Loki shrugged.</p><p>        No sooner did Mrs. Somersby drifted away than a man in his thirties in a charcoal grey suit and a dark red tie materialized and patted Loki on the back. I winced even if Loki didn’t.</p><p>        “Jesus wept, it’s good to see you!” he spoke with a strong Irish accent. “Sorry to hear about the accident, was it really so bad?”</p><p>        “Not at all,” Loki’s tone was completely nonchalant with just a hint of irritation. “Some impaired knobhead rear-ended me and now everyone thinks that I am half-dead for some reason. I am merely spending more time in the States now, as that side of the business is beginning to pick up.”</p><p>        “Good to hear, good to hear,” the man’s gaze shifted towards me, we were introduced, chatted for a bit and then he patted Loki on the back again and moved on. As soon as he was gone someone else showed up and it went on and on like that until I lost count of people and faces. When the music from the band got too loud and people started to dance, we moved back out into the lobby and settled back a the bar. For a good forty-five minutes, or maybe even an hour, the flow of people towards us was near constant, to the point that Loki and I could barely exchange a few words in privacy. It took well over two hours for the interest in us to truly taper off. By that point it was late, I never did get my dessert and my shoulders and back were all clammy from the built up of tension.  </p><p>        “Who are all these people?” I asked Loki when we finally we left to our own devices for long enough to relax a little.</p><p>        “Acquaintances,” said Loki with a slight shrug. “Mostly businessmen and their wives, the older crowd were close with my parents.”</p><p>        “Would it have killed you to be acquainted with someone from the Harry Potter movies instead?” I said as I rolled my shoulders slightly and willed my neck muscles to relax.</p><p>        “I think I saw Stephen Fry around here somewhere.” Loki surveyed the crowd milling about before him. Even while leaning on a bar stool, he was still taller than most guests and the bar area was slightly elevated allowing him a good view of the place.</p><p>        “He wasn’t in the movies,” I pointed out. “He did narrate the audio books though.”</p><p>        “Ah, forgive me darling, I am so uncultured! Do not know my own heritage!”</p><p>        “Hmm, yes, for shame.”</p><p>        “Speaking of shame,” said Loki staring down at the third of whiskey still left in his glass. “I cannot seem to access my phone; do not think I did not notice.”</p><p>        “Your own fault for leaving on the <em>Swipe-To-Unlock </em>function<em>,</em>” I shrugged, fighting back a smile. “How is it that you, of all people, don’t have a password on your phone?”</p><p>        “I always do, I assure you. However, when my hands were …” with a frown he made a vague gesture with the fingers of his left instead of elaborating any further and continued, “it was more convenient to take it down and I have not set it back yet. I want that code, woman. Or else.”</p><p>        That last part was said in a low growl that held no bite what so ever, his eyes gave him away, they twinkled with amusement.</p><p>        “Ooooh, scary,” I giggled. “What are you going to do? Send me a strongly worded letter in the mail?”</p><p>        Just then, a group of immaculately dressed waiters carried past us a number of covered silver trays and bowls. I craned my neck to try and see where they were going.</p><p>        “Ah! I think they’re going to set up a midnight table,” I said after a few moments. “I’m going to go and take a look.”</p><p>        “You just ate a five-course meal!” said Loki incredulously. </p><p>        “You’re about to order a third whiskey and had two glasses of wine with dinner,” I volleyed. “Is this <em>really</em> a conversation you want to start?”</p><p>        “Go with God, child,” he said as he put the glass to his lips. “Just try to avoid making yourself sick.”</p><p>        Leaving him behind in the good company of the bar I slipped back into the atrium ballroom. Although it was almost midnight the party showed no sign of winding down. People were milling about, couples were dancing on the floor, waiters were clearing odds and ends from the tables. No one kept to their original tables anymore and clusters and groups moved to wherever it was most convenient and least noisy. Many men left behind their suit jackets on chairs and I saw a few women sitting by the side of the dance floor with their shoes slipped off. On the long table where the dessert was once set up, there was now was a spread of all sorts of nibbles and appetizers and sandwiches. I wasn’t really all that hungry, but I wanted to see what kind of things they had.</p><p>        It wasn’t until I got the distinct and unsettling feeling that I was being watched and looked up to see the woman in a satin black satin dress making her way towards me, subtly but surely, that I realized we made a mistake. I had to think fast, since I couldn’t just bolt and I really didn’t want to start talking to her. So I did the one trick available to me short of faking a stroke. With as much acting ability as I could muster, I pretended to remember something, put the plate of food down on a random table and went off to the far side of the room away from people. Then I pulled out a phone from my purse and fiddled with it for a few seconds and put it to my ear. Seeing me like that the woman stopped and watched me with blatant uncertainty. Basic manners suggested a person on their phone in a crowded room should be left alone but I could only get away with it for so long. </p><p>        This is where I really lucked out a second time.</p><p>        Just then the band finished playing a slow number and a number of couples walked off the dance floor and headed out of the atrium. Obscured for a moment I joined them, slipped out of the room unnoticed and made my way back to the bar. I was already fairly certain of what I was going to find when i got there and sure enough, Loki was still half sitting on the stool at the edge of the bar and facing Mr. Morgan Priestly. Loki's face was completely impassive, slightly bored and slightly impatient which meant deep down he was simmering. As he was facing the room, he saw me as I leaned on the nearest column, once again took out my phone and pretended to type something. It was no so loud in the lobby, from where I was standing I could just hear their conversation. It seems Mr. Priestly had just made his way over because I caught the tail end of a greeting:</p><p>        “… rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated.”</p><p>        “As most of them came from your lot I do not see why you, of all people, seem scandalized by this fact. I am, however, somewhat surprised you are here at all. Although I suppose the visiting hours in orphanages and hospitals are now over, so your usual evening pastime of harassing war widows and orphans is not available.”</p><p>        “Now, now, Mr. Odinson, as you were away convalescing, I take it you are unaware of the fact that the inquiry into the phone hacking scandal cleared me of all changes.”</p><p>        “I happen to know it did no such thing” said Loki, still in that mild and dangerous tone. “I read all the 2000 pages of the report and it states that the inquiry could not establish you authorized it but that you were entirely aware of it and did nothing to stop it. In fact you created ideal circumstances for the practice to become common among journalists of a certain type. So you aided and abetted the intrusion of press into the private lives of citizens in order to peddle your newspapers. As the Americans sometimes say – go climb a tree.”</p><p>        “Dear me, it seems you are growing more and more comfortable with the US and especially it’s people. Do you plan on moving there?”</p><p>        “Certainly not as comfortable as you are, even though your show was hilariously unpopular over there. If it means putting an ocean between you and myself I find it rather tempting to swim there right now.”</p><p>        “And how is the delectable Miss Narracott? I do miss her at these functions.”</p><p>        “Morgan, for the sake of the perfectly serviceable dinner we just ate, never refer to anyone as <em>delectable</em>. It is a nauseating term when applied to a human being, doubly so when coming from you."</p><p>        “I find your animosity quite puzzling, perhaps you are still recovering from your accident or perhaps loneliness has taken it's toll.”</p><p>        “Please, you and I both know how short my fuse really is.”</p><p>        On paper that last bit may not have sounded like a threat, but boy did it sound like it in when I heard it live! My gut told me I was at best seconds and at most minuets away from some kind of disaster. Certainly I knew Loki did not want me to intrude, but as a number of councilors, both of the guidance and camp variety, could attest to, I was never good at following orders blindly. Stepping away from the column, I walked towards the bar, past and completely ignoring Morgan Priestly, and sat back down in front of my glass of wine. Loki turned towards me and shifted his attention away from Priestly as well.</p><p>        “You know the real downside to these tiny purses women carry is that you can’t stuff enough of those Portuguese shrimp turnovers into them.” I said conversationally to him.</p><p>        “You have a coat with pockets do you not?” he sniped back. </p><p>        “Where do you think I was?" I shrugged. "The coat check girls were surprised as hell.”</p><p>        Morgan Priestly apparently was not the type of man who could take something like being completely ignored by a pair of people as a hint.</p><p>        “Goodness madam, I do not believe we have been introduced,” he drawled.</p><p>        “Darling, this is Morgan Priestly,” said Loki while still not looking at him. This eyes were on me and they were beautiful and a little angry but mostly regretful, “he dregs up garbage for a living”</p><p>        “Charming, is it for one of those papers that have a topless woman on the third page?”</p><p>        “Sometimes for that one, yes.” Said Morgan, completely unperturbed.</p><p>        “Well bless your heart, I hope you don’t pull something straining while you do it,” I said with a smile that could melt butter.</p><p>        “Americans have such a way with words,” he replied after a two second pause. “Apologies, but I didn’t catch your name Madam.”</p><p>        “Regina Phalange” I said blithely.</p><p>        Perhaps unsurprisingly, Mr. Priestly did not react to that.</p><p>        <em>Very</em> surprisingly, Loki did - I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.</p><p>        “A pleasure to meet you," said Priestly. "I look forward to learning more about you.”</p><p>        Again, on paper that didn’t sound like a threat and again the way it was said it made it seem like it was. Next to me I could feel Loki’s hands clenching and un-clenching, a nervous tick I only saw occasionally.   </p><p>        “By the way Mr. Priestly, I believe your wife is looking for you,” I said as I reached for my glass to take a sip of wine. “She must be, for I can’t think of another reason why she’s been doing circles around the ballroom for the last fifteen minutes.”</p><p>        There was another pause, Priestly’s eyes moved from me, to Loki and back to me and he smiled - it was a very nasty kind of smile.</p><p>        “It’s best that I go collect her then,” he said finally. “It was a pleasure to speak with you both, I assure you.”</p><p>        “Douche canoe.” I said when he was out of earshot and I slipped around to face the bar again.</p><p>        Loki stared at me thoughtfully.</p><p>        “You should not have joined in,” he said finally, then picked up his whiskey glass and took a good pull from it. “He will have someone print something nasty about you now.”</p><p>        “Pfff, let them, what do I care?” I said with a shrug. “My dad is dead and my mom only ever reads the local paper and the church bulletin board. You’re no Prince Harry, whatever is written in an English tabloid will barely make a splash in the States.”</p><p>        “You still should not have joined in,” he repeated.</p><p>        “Loki, if I stayed away his wife would have cornered me eventually and I had no intention of talking to that satin enveloped terror. Besides I heard you conversation, another minute of him badgering you and you’d have punched him in the teeth. Which would be entirely deserved, but probably bad form at an event such as this. More importantly, it would have fucked up your knuckles all over again and they were an absolute bitch to rehab the first time! There’s constant employment, there’s masochism and then there’s that. No thanks.”</p><p>        We sat in silence for a few moments. I fiddled with the stem of the wineglass for a bit and grieved for my sore feet. If you’d have told me four months ago, as I was driving to upstate New York for an interview, that by taking the job I would end up in a feud with a British yellow journalist at a London gala I’d have laughed in your face. Glancing to my left I watched Loki in profile as he stared ahead and nursed his drink. It occurred to me then that despite everything, I had no regrets and I would do it again. This was the hardest job I’ve ever done, it was the best job I’ve ever done and with every passing moment I was coming to terms with the realization that at some point it stopped being a job.</p><p>        But that line of thinking was perilously close to introspection, and this was neither the time nor the place for it so instead of dwelling on any of it I turned back towards Loki and said: </p><p>        “By the way, the biggest shocker of the night is that you get deep-cut <em>Friends</em> references. Which I am just bowled over by as I’d assumed you unwind to the happy joyful energy of <em>Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy</em> or something.”</p><p>        “Woman, I was recuperating in an American hospital for two months. There was nothing but <em>Friends</em> and <em>Fresh Prince of Bel-Air</em> on your television at any hour of the day. How do you know about <em>Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy</em>?”</p><p>        “I like John le Carre novels and I’ll watch just about anything if Colin Firth is in it.” I smiled, “but the metal image of you strapped to a bed and subjected to ten years of Ross-Rachel endless relationship drama is something I will cherish for the rest of my life.”</p><p>        “Frankly darling, I think you just like the idea of tying me up.”</p><p>        “Could be that I do,” I replied in a tone bordering on flirtatious. “It’s probably the only way to keep you out of trouble.”</p><p>        “You are such a mouthy little thing,” he purred. “One day it will land you in trouble with me.”</p><p>        “Big words from a man who can’t access his own cellphone.”</p><p>        He chuckled at that and it brought me genuine joy to see a smile on his face. We chatted like that, about absolutely nothing, for the next little while. When I glanced at the clock, it was suddenly half past midnight. Loki caught my gaze and nodded,</p><p>        “Yes. All appearances have been kept up, I am pleasantly buzzed and sick of this place and everyone in it.” He slid the empty glass back across the polished surface of the bar table towards the bartender, who caught it deftly. “Except for you good sir, you are doing God’s work.”</p><p>        “Cheers mate,” replied the bartender with a grin.</p><p>        Loki made a move to get up, but I turned to the man and said, “actually, can you get him a glass of water please?”</p><p>        “I am not that drunk,” said Loki with a huff.</p><p>        “No, you are not” I agreed. “But first of all, you’ve had noting but coffee and alcohol for the last eight hours and second, I need you to sit tight for a second. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>        I slipped off the chair and went back into the ballroom, when I came back Loki had drained the water and was on his feet, though his stance was somewhat unsteady.</p><p>        “Where were you?” he asked while slipping a generous number of bills underneath the heavy glass.</p><p>        “Powdering my nose and checking my nylons in the little girls room” I said blithely.</p><p>        My hand slipped around his arm once again - sneaky thing, always had a mind of its own. Loki didn’t seem to mind, he leaned into me a little and we moved towards the exit and into the night air to grab a cab.      </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This and the previous chapter cribbed a lot from real UK news stories.<br/>UK has a very unpleasant tabloid press machine known for doing some pretty nasty things and Priestly, while he is inspired by a real person, is more of an amalgamation of a number of reprehensible people.<br/>If you want to know more, this is as good a place as any to start: <br/>https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/News_International_phone_hacking_scandal </p><p>On a lighter note, Portuguese shrimp turnovers are amazing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Tête-à-tête</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Once in the black taxi, Loki stretched his long legs, groaned and reached up to rub his right shoulder.</p><p>        He also, magically, was looking way, <em>way</em> less drunk.</p><p>        Imagine that.</p><p>        “I don’t give your acting enough credit,” I grumbled as I watched him sprawl and take up the majority of the back seat, like a sleek, lazy cat. His eyes were closed as he smiled but made no reply. “You worried me for a second, you know,” I added.</p><p>        “I needed to make evident a reason for leaning on you as much as I did” he said finally.</p><p>        “Where does it hurt?”</p><p>        “Knee up to the thigh and the right shoulder, slightly. Probably from being tense for so long. Not too bad, just the typical constant dull throbbing, but it hurt to be constantly aware of it and yet not to accommodate it. The way I have been sitting most of the night did not help matters.”</p><p>        “Casually slouching comes at a price, but at least it looks good.” I said as slipped the shoes off and rubbed my feet. I could feel the calluses that formed overnight and winced. “You were at the bar all night, how drunk are you?"</p><p>        "Not at all, I know how to drink so as not to get drunk," Loki's voice was clear and measured, if a little more relaxed than normal. "When I said I was pleasantly buzzed that was not a lie. If I am ever inebriated it is because I made the conscious decision to get to that state. At an event such as this, with so many eyes on me, it would not have been wise to do so, but I do have a bit of a reputation from my younger and more carefree days and it is sometimes advantageous to play into it a little."</p><p>        "Give the public what they want to see?" I smiled.</p><p>        "Precisely."</p><p>        "So do you think this night went well? I have no gauge for such things.”</p><p>        “It went very well, all things considered” he said, still picturesquely strewn in the back seat with his eyes closed. “The only hiccup was our interaction with Morgan, but if he and I are in the same place at the same time such spats are inevitable. My only regret is that another person was pulled into it.”</p><p>        “Hmm, my only regret is that I will never see his face when he discovers the six pieces of shrimp stuffed into the underlining of his Armani jacket.” I paused for effect, “if he ever does, that is.”</p><p>        Loki’s eyes popped open and he sat up bolt upright.</p><p>        “You didn’t!”</p><p>        “Of course I didn’t,” I said blithely. “Do you think I'm capable of such a thing? Heavens, that would just be <em>so rude</em>. I am guessing that that dinner had no shortage of people who think he’s a dick. Maybe one of them did it. Maybe they grabbed a plate of food and sat down near where he took off his jacket and just left it lying around. Maybe they pulled on a loose thread while pretending to eat a snack. It’s dark in that room, anything could have happened.”</p><p>        Loki threw himself back against the car seat and laughed.</p><p>        And I do mean he <em>laughed</em>.</p><p>        His face scrunched up and his chest rumbled pleasantly. That was the first time I truly made him laugh out loud and the lovely, slightly raspy sound of it spread through me and through the car interior like warm caramel. A mad idea seized me suddenly - I wanted to slide up to him, to climb up on his lap, to pass my fingers through his hair and drag my nails along the back of his neck. I wanted to squeeze out of him that same groan I’ve gotten out of him once before. I saw the long and delicate stretch of his neck, only somewhat bound by the loosened cream colored tie, and I wanted to grasp it and use it to pull him towards me. To place a long string of feather-light kisses from the start of the jawline all the way down to the clavicle.</p><p>        And then to bite him. Just a little. Just enough to make those narrow hips jerk involuntarily.</p><p>        The urge was so strong and so visceral it was suddenly palpable. The mood in the car changed, and was now tense and sensual. Again, too late, I realized Loki was watching me through half lidded eyes. The expression on his face shifted from tired and relaxed to something far more confident and masculine. The look of someone who knew they were being admired, who knew they were being <em>considered</em>. I was so caught up in it that for a moment my eyes met his in a challenge, but then I came to my senses and looked away. </p><p>        I spent some time watching the London nightlife fly past the tinted car window. When I looked back Loki's eyes were closed again and his left arm was thrown over his brow ridge for good measure. The feeling, the moment, whatever it was - had passed.</p><p>        With far less traffic in the middle of the night and we got back to the apartment much faster than before. After Loki paid the cabdriver we both got out of the car and into the building. There were no people around, the lobby was deserted, it seemed as if the whole place was asleep. The elevator doors opened as soon as I pressed the button. After getting in, I leaned on the wall opposite to the one Loki was leaning on, just as the ascent began. The entire time Loki's eyes were on me - blue and green and a little perplexed.</p><p>        What happened next happened suddenly. We were somewhere between the 14<sup>th</sup> and 15<sup>th</sup> floor when I watched Loki come to a decision. His expression hardened, he reached out and pushed the Emergency Stop button. The elevator jerked to a stop. A red emergency light flashed and bathed us in blinking, scarlet light.</p><p>        “Loki, what the hell?” I squeaked with surprise.</p><p>        “I know what my question is," his voice was frank, with no humor or artifice, "and I need you to answer it now.”</p><p>        "Well then?” I folded my arms and raised my eyebrows expectantly for good measure.</p><p>        “You are attracted to me.” He said simply.</p><p>        That wasn't the question, coming from him it was a statement of fact and one that after a day like today I didn’t have the heart or the brain to argue against.</p><p>        “So what? You're a handsome ass and you fill out a suit well. So I noticed, so sue me.” my voice came out so defensive it was almost angry.</p><p>        Loki thoughtfully looked at me for a moment then looked around us and sighed. There was a long metal bar running along the length of the elevator at waist level and as he leaned back against the wall more he placed his hands on it.</p><p>        “Physically, yes, certainly," he said at last. "But I think also emotionally, or at the very least you are fond of me to some degree. Surely this night proves my theory, for you are a sensible person and would not do half of what you have done, completely willingly, for merely someone you are paid rather well to rehabilitate." </p><p>        Silence reigned for a few seconds more. For once I could not take his gaze, it was too frank and disarming. It was something I was entirely unprepared for from Loki, although I could hardly be surprised. He was a lawyer by education and an actor at heart so of course he could wield the truth just as brutally as he could a lie. </p><p>        My eyes lowered to the tiled floor and to the suede shoes, which in the lurid red light seemed purple.</p><p>        And then Loki said the darndest thing you can imagine:</p><p>        "I am quite drawn to you as well. Nothing would please me more than acting on it, but you continue to flitter from receptive and skiddish and this just puzzles me. Why do you not act on your attraction, but for moments of pure impulse which you then completely shut down and ignore?”</p><p>        My arms dropped to my sides as I stood there and stared. What does one even say to that?</p><p>        Except for the truth, I guess.</p><p>        “Loki, you’re a patient in my care. It would be wildly inappropriate for me to actually hit on you, let alone hook up with you or pursue you.”</p><p>        “Is that the only reason?”</p><p>        “No, but it's certainly the most valid!”</p><p>        “What else?”</p><p>        “Everything else!" I said with emphasis rather than volume, it seemed ridiculous that we were discussing this in the first place but if we were gonna you might as well be civil about it. "Loki, you are recovering from enormous emotional trauma and also significant physical trauma. We live on different continents! You ... you're so rich you can buy my apartment block and pave over it!”</p><p>        “The emotional trauma is my call entirely, and I say the recovery from it is going just fine," said Loki simply. "My short-term physical recovery is nearly complete - as you well know. We are currently on the same continent and will be sharing one for the next little while at least. I am not standing here and suggesting we elope, merely that the attraction is obviously mutual and it is worth acknowledging and acting on. As for my wealth, you are so wildly unimpressed by it, you actually have panic attacks over being near it. Which, I admit, it a first for me in terms of the kind of reactions it usually solicits with women.”</p><p>        “You never gave me any indication you’re interested," was all I could think to say.</p><p>        “Darling," Loki smiled fondly. "The last time we slept - it was in the same bed!”</p><p>        “Fine," I huffed, admitting defeat. "I guess this just leaves the tiny issue of professionalism to discuss.”</p><p>        “Very well, you are now fired,” he said with a little sardonic shrug.</p><p>        “Funny.”</p><p>        “Not as funny as the limitation you have placed upon yourself,” he shrugged. “You are an excellent and very professional caregiver. I do not believe for a moment that becoming more intimate with me will lessen your abilities or your dedication to your job. I can easily compartmentalize personal and professional and I suspect you can as well.”</p><p>        “Loki, I would lose my job over this! Not just this placement, the whole job, my association with Reliant Networks, everything!"</p><p>        "I will never tell," said Loki sincerely. Then added with smirk, "will you?"</p><p>        "I will <em>never</em> forgive myself for overstepping such a rule, even if no one knew about it!"</p><p>        “So this is it then? We just go on as before, both frustrated out of our minds? Then part at the end of the year and never see each other again?”</p><p>        I looked down at my feet again. It was different now that I knew for a fact he was interested. It was harder to ignore. It was hard to remember why it was a no good, very bad idea.</p><p>        <em>It was, wasn’t it?</em></p><p>        I gripped the purse in my hands so tightly the leather squeaked, but I still didn't look up.</p><p>        “Very well,” Loki sighed. “I do not believe in convincing women into anything. This conversation never happened.”</p><p>        He reached out and switched off the emergency button. The elevator shuddered slightly and resumed it’s ascent. I was so bowed over, I barely noticed us getting the 25<sup>th</sup> floor and walking down the hall and entering the apartment.</p><p>        In the dim light I saw Loki pull off his coat and throw it on the bench by the door. I did the same but took the time to hang it up, just to let my hands do something, anything. As Loki passed behind me and went into the living room where I joined him a few moments later. There was a lamp left on in the kitchen, just above the stove. The blinking lights of the London night life, faint and multicolored, poured into the apartment through the wide windows and gave the whole place a strangely soothing and serene sort of feel.</p><p>        Returning together from a night out to a clean, well-lighted place. It was so domestic it was perverse. </p><p>        “Why?” the word spilled out of my mouth before I could stop it.</p><p>        “Why what?” asked Loki in return, in an almost distracted way.</p><p>        “Why me? Just cause I’m there?”</p><p>        “You are not Mount Everest, dearest darling,” he smiled ruefully. Then he came a few steps closer and his hand stretched out to lay on my waist, making my breath hitch. His palm was wide and warm and his thumb delicately and lightly traced my lowest rib, but he did not pull me towards him. “I trust you. Inherently and intrinsically I have trusted you from the almost the very start. Even when I did not like you, I could not deny you were fair to me. As time passed, I have grown to like your impish humor and your blithe directness and the way you overcome that which frightens you and paralyzes your mind. And I like your lovely, lovely long legs which I am certain can cling to my waist marvelously well.”</p><p>        My brain didn’t really have a comment to that, it only made a kind of snarling noise which, I was not 100% sure I didn’t actually vocalize. In return, a hunger flared up in Loki’s features for a moment but I saw him put it down, he lowered his hand from my waist.</p><p>        I missed it immediately.</p><p>        “It would probably be best if we both got some rest,” he said in a more neural tone. “Tomorrow is another day, you perhaps will want to see the city some before we depart.”</p><p>        Nodding, I watched him him take a step back and then start up the stairs. After a few moments I followed, when I made it to the door of my guestroom he was about to enter his bedroom down the hall.</p><p>        “Loki!” I said suddenly and as he turned, a string of words tumbled out of me before I could arrange them properly. “It’s … not because of you. It’s all me. I … you didn’t do anything wrong.”</p><p>        "Certainly not darling - I never do,” he smiled. “And you didn’t either.”</p><p>        We went though our respective doors and closed them.</p><p>        I wondered if Loki leaned on his the same way I did on mine.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not the usual sort of shenanigans Loki gets up to in elevators but here we go. </p><p>This is the half-way point of the story, both thematically and by length. From the next chapter onward things will be a little different between our main duo.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Corps-à-corps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        There were 42 small and 10 large pins in my hair. </p>
<p>        I pulled all of them out, one by one, methodically and automatically while sitting on the enormous guestroom bed. To steady my shaking hands I lined them up neatly along the edge of the night table. Gradually, my hair slipped from the hairstyle it was in and spilled forward, creating a curtain all around my face. Many of the curls were losing their bounce and as I brushed them out the strands returned to the wavy, slightly frizzy mass it once was. I pulled my hair back and braided it into a long thick plait, then I took off the pear-drop earrings. The diamonds sparked and shimmered even in the low lamplight and for a while I held them and admired the artistry with which they were made. </p>
<p>        But as I held them, I also started to feel a little uncomfortable.</p>
<p>        They used to belong to Loki’s mother.</p>
<p>        He loaned them to me only for the night. I would have given them back right away, but with everything else that happened …</p>
<p>        <em>What do you mean "with everything else that happened"? Nothing happened. The most beautiful, complicated, interesting and sexy man on the planet approached you respectfully and you said "no".</em></p>
<p>        With care I put the earrings on the night stand, just above the hairpins. </p>
<p>        It was right. I was right to refuse.</p>
<p>        And he was decent enough to take it well.</p>
<p>        End of story.</p>
<p>        I got to my feet and packed the dress and the shoes away, I emptied out and wrapped up the clutch and stacked all the boxes by the door. Then I went into the bathroom and spent a good ten minutes scrubbing my face. Waterproof makeup is all fine and good until you actually have to take it off at the end of the night. When, after a lot of soap and a lot of cleanser, I finally dried my face I could recognize myself in the mirror once again. I contemplated taking a shower, but I wasn’t sure I felt like one. I wasn’t sure I felt like anything. When I left the party I was tired and content and a little bitchy, thus the shrimp prank which I’ve not resorted to since college.</p>
<p>        Now I just felt without. Everything I was doing was on autopilot.</p>
<p>        If what I did was right, then why did I feel so awful? Why did I feel like I made a mistake?</p>
<p>       <em> Because you finally found a guy who’s exactly what you’ve always wanted and needed. Who’s clever and smart and prickly as hell but still a little sweet underneath. Who’s gorgeous and sexy. Whose damage doesn’t get in the way of him being a decent person. Who can dish it out but can also take it right back. Whose probably really, really, </em>really<em> good in bed.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>        And you said no.</em>
</p>
<p>        I pulled my sleep shirt over my head with a bit more force than strictly necessary.</p>
<p>        He’s my patient. It would be unprofessional.</p>
<p>        <em>Oh yes, because everything you’ve done up to this point has been completely above board!</em></p>
<p>        That’s not a reason to do one worse!</p>
<p>       <em> Neither is it a reason to refuse him. It's an irrelevancy. Fraternization rules exist because in an ordinary patient/caretaker relationship the caretaker holds power over the patient. Any relationship born from that disparity would not be on equal footing. But with Loki you specifically worked to create equal footing or he would not have rehabilitated. He is not your paying client and from almost the beginning your relationship with him was more than just helping a patient. You just decided to draw an arbitrary line at sex because it was unlikely to you that it would ever get there. And you could live in your little world, where being attracted to him and flirting with him and buying him dinner and giving him pricey gifts and accepting outrageous gifts in return and getting aroused by him was fine and even somehow part of your job.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>        Go you.</em>
</p>
<p>        I considered braining myself on the head with a lamp.</p>
<p>        Instead I pulled on the bed-covers.</p>
<p>        The thick material was really tightly tucked under the mattress and when I wrenched at it a bit more savagely than needed the cloth slipped out, collided with the nightstand and made it wobble. Panic shot right through me as I heard the sound of many tiny objects scatter, I jumped back and was mortified to see only one pear-drop earring still on the night table.</p>
<p>        The other was no where to be seen.</p>
<p>        “Oh <em>Fuck!</em>”</p>
<p>        I groped about on the floor picking up pins and desperately searching for it.</p>
<p>        This was the last thing I needed, losing a family heirloom down a heating grate! I turned on all the lights in the room, lay down on the floor and to my relief saw a telltale shimmer way under the bed. After retrieving the earring I placed the pair of them in the palm of my hand and stared at them for a moment. Then I curled my hand into a fist and, dressed just as I was, in a blue tent of a sleep shirt that ended just above the knee with a print of a sleeping cartoon pug on it, I marched out of the guestroom, down the hall and towards Loki’s bedroom. His lights were still on, when I knocked I heard movement and in a few moments one of the doors opened. Loki stood on the other side wearing dark green silk pajama pants. They hung impossibly low on his hips, enough to let me know he was not wearing any kind of underwear. He didn’t even have his binding on.</p>
<p>        <em>Oh no ...</em></p>
<p>        “I’m sorry if I woke you, but I wanted to give you these back right away,” I said while holding out my hand. “I don’t like having them any longer than I absolutely must. I’m too freaked out something will happen to them on my watch.”</p>
<p>        Somehow Loki took the earrings from my palm without his fingers coming in contact with my hand.</p>
<p>        “I appreciate that,” he said as he moved towards the dresser. His voice was very neural.</p>
<p>        This was really the point at which I should have turned around and marched back to my room. Instead I leaned against the door frame and watched Loki place the earrings, carefully and gently, into the velvet cushion of the small box. He stared at them for a fraction of a second and then covered them with a lid. His fingers moved so delicately. There was only one light in the room, a bedside lamp, and he was lit up by it in the most mesmerizing way, like a marble Rodin sculpture at a MET exhibition.</p>
<p>        When he turned back towards me I asked, “what time is our flight out of here?”</p>
<p>        “5AM Monday morning. If there are no delays we should be back in New York by 8AM local time.”</p>
<p>        I nodded but still didn’t move.</p>
<p>        “So we have just over 24 hours left in Britain,” I said instead.</p>
<p>        Loki regarded me with a slightly puzzled expression. His head tilted slightly to the right, as if to punctuate he didn’t quite understand where I was getting at. That tickled me a little as it was a rare sight to see him nonplussed.</p>
<p>        For you see, just then I got myself a Very Bad Idea.</p>
<p>        “What if I were to quit?” I asked.</p>
<p>        Loki’s eyebrows shot up. Way, way up. The corners of his mouth twitched.</p>
<p>        “That would be very unfortunate.” He said solemnly, as he leaned back on the dresser. “It would cause me no end of trouble with my brother. I would have to spend the next 24 hours urging and urging and <em>urging</em> you to reconsider.”</p>
<p>        Something within me clenched intimately, I was very aware of the fact that my eyes were ogling every line and contour and sinew and tendon and muscle currently on display in the low light of the room.</p>
<p>        I swallowed. </p>
<p>        “That’s a lot of urging ...” my voice was not my own.</p>
<p>        Loki’s lips curled further into knowing smirk, a very promising one.</p>
<p>        This was it, we knew each other's cards now but this was my call to make because I had more to lose. I wanted him physically and I needed him emotionally and I was so, so tired of listing to myself the reasons why it was a bad idea. It was definitely a bad idea - obviously and evidently. I was risking my career, my peace of mind, my heart. Everything really. It was the only time in my life when the solution was blindingly and completely clear and I ignored it. Instead, I met Loki's eyes and took a step forward, I entered the room, reached out behind me and closed the door. </p>
<p>        As the lock clicked shut Loki let go of the dresser he was leaning on and walker towards me with a smooth, mesmerizing gait.</p>
<p>        His hands, long and sure found their way around my waist and pushed me back just a little until I was between the door and his lean, hard chest. He was above me and around me and my hands found his shoulders without me even realizing it. His soft lips landed on my temple, almost chastely, almost but for the smirk I felt against my skin. There was a tiny moment of pause and then they trailed lower, a delicate sensuous assault that nearly buckled my knees. His mouth found the shell of my ear and his tongue deviously traced it down to the earlobe which he then playfully closed his teeth upon. A noise escaped my lungs that was barely human, my fingers ran up his neck and plunged into the mane of black silken locks and pulled.  </p>
<p>        Loki growled.</p>
<p>        His hips ground against mine and I felt his sizable erection on my thigh and gasped out:</p>
<p>        “I quit, I quit, I so, so quit!”</p>
<p>        Loki, still flush against me, chuckled and I felt his chuckle reverberate right through me.</p>
<p>        <em>Yes, God please, yes.</em></p>
<p>        I think I said that part out loud rather than merely think it.</p>
<p>        Loki broke away and our foreheads touched for a few seconds.</p>
<p>        He was out of breath.</p>
<p>        I was out of breath.</p>
<p>        Our eyes met. Loki's were blue and green and beautiful and hungry and confident. Simultaneously we lunged at each other and our lips collided at last. It was more than a kiss - we inhaled each other. My mind loses track of time and the exact sequence of events after this point for a little bit. I don't know how long we remained that way, I became far too lost in the sensation to care. Loki's lips were achingly soft, his clever tongue warred with mine endlessly, my hands roamed all over his upper body delighting in the tactile pleasure of tracing muscle and bone under the soft yet firm pale skin.</p>
<p>        A hand slipped down, over the flimsy and worn out cotton of the nightshirt, and grasped my ass possessively making me moan, then went further down to the hem and underneath it. It was when Loki realized that he was holding my bare back and that I did not even have a bra on that he splayed an open palm against it, pulling me closer still, and whispered in my ear:</p>
<p>        "And so to bed, perhaps?" his voice was deceptively calm.</p>
<p>        "It is a very nice bed," I smiled as I gently pushed off the wall. "So much room of activities!"</p>
<p>        As we stumbled toward it, Loki's hands pushed the material of the sleep shirt higher and higher so that when I sat down on its edge he could pull it over my head and throw it aside. For a second a stupid moment of misplaced girlish modestly crept up on me and my hands shot up to cover myself, but then I caught myself and slowly lowered them down and leaned back a little, pinned by Loki's alarmingly dark eyes. His pupils were blown so much so that precious little of green or blue was left.</p>
<p>        He reached out and the back of his index finger traced the curving line of one of my breasts and made me shiver.</p>
<p>        "So beautiful," he cooed.</p>
<p>        His middle and index fingers trapped the tip of my hard and aching nipple and pulled, just a little, just enough to see what happens.</p>
<p>        "Ah!" surprise and pleasure burned inside of me and the sound that escaped my lungs was a mix of both, my back arching towards Loki like a taught bow.</p>
<p>        "So responsive," the voice turned rougher, hungrier.</p>
<p>        He leaned over me until I fell backwards and felt the soft decadent silk of the bed cover under my overstimulated skin and rubbed into it like a cat. With one knee resting on the bed, Loki hovered above me. He gently removed a loose tendril of hair from around my neck and kissed me there instead. Then my collarbone. Then lower still, his mouth got rougher, slower, more thorough. I felt his teeth graze the areola, tease the sensitive skin between and beneath the breasts, his long inky hair swept across my body like a paintbrush from hell. My sodden panties disappeared at this point, pushed down and away, and his lips trailed maddeningly soft kisses down, down, <em>down oh God down</em> until his hands grasped me at the waist and held me to the mattress as his mouth descended on me. Messily, thoroughly and with intimidating levels of dedication Loki proceeded to eat me out while I squirmed and writhed under him in exquisite pleasure. His weight was atop of me, not crushing, but not allowing me movement, denying me the ability to chase my climax.</p>
<p>        I don’t know how long he kept me there - time stretched unimaginably in those moments until my toes curled as my body was overtaken by waves and waves of blissful release. My hands kept clutching at things; at the bed covers, at Loki, at myself and after the peak receded I felt sated and a little dazed. Which is why when his teeth gently nipped the skin just above my hip bone the sensation made me jump, in turn producing a little laugh out of Loki who then crawled up slowly over my naked body, grinding against me the whole time, squeezing out of me all sorts of nonsensical babbling. Drunkenly, I kissed his neck and shoulders as he moved to position himself above me when suddenly I felt him tense up. It was a familiar sight - an unconscious movement caused a jolt of pain to shoot through his body.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Right. His knee is still pretty fucked. His right leg all up the thigh is still aches under strain.</em>
</p>
<p>        He probably intended to power through it all, but I was not about to let him.</p>
<p>        Loki hovered above me, his weight supported largely by his left arm pressed into the bed near my head. So I took it, folding it at the elbow and his body pitched over to the left with a grunt of surprise. We rolled until he was beneath me and Loki looked up at me, eyebrows raised in an amused, silent question.</p>
<p>        “Don’t start!” I said with mock strictness, the hint of affect of the uptight nurse just underneath the joking tone, as I slid my hands along his shoulders and settled my palms on his chest. “If you wreck your leg now, what am I going to do with the rest of my 24 hours?”</p>
<p>        “Well there is that big Ferris wheel on the Themes,” said Loki hoarsely as my naked hips straddled him and I ground my very wet self against him slowly and steadily. When I sunk my nails into his pectorals, I felt him twitch with pleasure against me and filed that information for later.</p>
<p>        “There are other things I want to ride first,” grinning, I reached behind me to push his pajama pants aside grasp him in my hand.</p>
<p>        “Oh hell darling, you are absolute hell ...” He whispered as my fingers wandered and caressed and pumped the entire length of him. Watching him forsake self-control, with his head thrown back against the sheets, eyes closed and lips slightly parted was mesmerizing.</p>
<p>        I missed this, I missed pleasure.</p>
<p>        Giving it.</p>
<p>        Receiving it.</p>
<p>        Shifting my weight slightly I slid off of him and then the bed and kneeling on the floor moved to pull off his pants altogether. He lifted his hips to help me along and when I was done and looked back up at him over his very naked, very hard body my face must have held some expression other than virginal piety because Loki lifted his back off the bed by propping himself up on his elbows and said:</p>
<p>        “Oh dearest,” in a very honeyed tone. “I think this is going to be quite the 24 hours.”</p>
<p>        He reached out a hand to pull be back up and groaned when I straddled him again. Beneath me, rubbing right against the wettest and most sensitive part of me, he was long and slightly curved and driving me crazy. My nonchalance was not going to last much longer.</p>
<p>        The last thing Loki that made any kind of sense was:</p>
<p>        “Dammit, do I need anything here? I have condoms.”</p>
<p>        The last thing that I said that made any kind of sense was.</p>
<p>        “IUD. I know you're clean. It's your call, you have my word when I say I am too. Is that all right?”</p>
<p>        “Yes. Yes. <em>Yes</em>”</p>
<p>        That last part crawled out of his chest as a groan, and mine matched it, because that was the moment when our bodies finally joined.</p>
<p>        It was so good it was overwhelming. Emotionally it was like coming up for air after a long dive. Like coming out to a sunny clearing after a walk in the cold woods. My toes curled and my I threw my head back and the wooden beams on the ceiling blurred as our bodies came together. There was no more overthinking, I’m pretty sure there was no more thinking either. And at last no feel nothing but joy and pleasure and release felt like a heavenly blessing.</p>
<p>        Physically it was something else entirely.</p>
<p>        Loki was well endowed, more so than any of my previous partners. So it hurt, but the ache was a dull sort of ache that came with a hint of pleasure. I chased that feeling, that ache until the hint bloomed into pure bliss . Loki's hands were at my waist and when I reached my peak and my body spasmed, one of his hands slipped between us and found the most sensitive part of me and he trapped it between two of his fingers and just that, combined with the pressing of our bodies against each other drove me over the edge again. It was more intense the second time and I screamed in ecstasy as I came and finally fell forward on top of him. Before I could catch my breath Loki wrapped his hands around me and deftly rolled us over.</p>
<p>        "Jerk." I whispered halfheartedly.</p>
<p>        "Of course," he smiled back and entered me again, a rough and swift movement that reached some other, deeper, part of me and made me quiver and thrash. He held me by the thighs and thrust urgently and with fervent abandon. His mouth was on me again, my shoulder, my neck, my breasts, it was too much and I felt another climax building in me again. I felt his as well and then I felt him subdue it, push it away, he was edging himself by slowing down a little and then speeding up - surfing the plateau. It occurred to me that while I knew it was possible in theory, I have never encountered a male partner that bothered with the practice in actuality. Then the wave of the orgasm hit me and I lost all threads of thought. Loki let go of me then and I clung to him as I rode out the sudden shuddering euphoria. A few seconds before it fully subsided, and with him still in me, I caught him off guard and flipped us again and he chucked appreciatively as I took back control.</p>
<p>        It would always be like that - this push-and-pull defined us. I was getting addicted to it, possibly he was as well, who knew?</p>
<p>        Soon I felt Loki’s release approach again, before even he groaned out a warning to me. His left arm snaked around my waist and pulled me back against his chest and held me there. This right hand gripped my long braid and yanked it, pulling my head back. It hurt just a little but the pleasure I received from this pain was tenfold. His hips jutted up into me and I surrendered control to him and let him take me. He thrust up into me, over and over and over to completion and past it until my own climax came. Then he released my hair and the grip on my waist slackened so that I could slump against him in exhaustion. As we both caught our breaths, neither was apparently in a hurry to separate, so we just laid here in a sweaty, overheated heap.</p>
<p>        “Oh Christ, that was a long time coming, wasn’t it?” I mumbled, as I leaned my forehead on Loki’s less injured shoulder.</p>
<p>        “Ehehehe,” he chucked quietly. “Coming.”</p>
<p>        “Wow, one good roll in the hay and all that British erudition just slides right off ya, don’t it?”</p>
<p>        “Well, if cleverness and word play are really a ploy to getting laid, immediately afterwards I am occasionally quite tapped out.” His tone was so joking it was almost lighthearted, his fingers trailed lightly up and down my spine. I wanted to purr like a cat. “Give it a little time darling, I will be back to my usual caustic self soon.”</p>
<p>        “Yaaaay,” I said with hardly any enthusiasm.</p>
<p>        “Please, you cannot tell me that you dislike my sense of humor, I will simply not believe you at this point.” Loki gave a wide gesture to the surrounding mess in which we lay in post-coital glow. </p>
<p>        “No.” I acquiesced with a sigh and slipped off him at last, shuddering at the feeling of it. “That’s pretty much half the reason I’m here.”</p>
<p>        I flopped on my back beside him and we stayed there, side by side, our legs still entwined, his left hand still lightly settled on my stomach. We both stared dumbly at the ceiling for a while in silence. As the sexual euphoria receded the magnitude of what we have done, the boundary we have willingly and very enthusiastically crossed started to dawn. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, the quiet was starting to become a little awkward.</p>
<p>        “Loki?” I said finally.</p>
<p>        “Mmm?”</p>
<p>        “This can’t cross into the States. What we got going here, it <em>has</em> to stay in international waters. I still have an agreement with your brother for close to two months. He and Val will be back next month. I can’t stomach the thought of sneaking around their house to screw you while they pay me good money. It’s insulting. To everyone.”</p>
<p>        “Fair enough” conceded Loki after a moment’s thought, some time passed and then he finally asked. “Why did you change your mind at all?”</p>
<p>
  <em>        Good question.</em>
</p>
<p>        “I guess I realized that I’ve never been excessively professional in the first four months of working with you, so getting on a high horse about it now is a bit hypocritical. But also, I didn’t plan for this. I really did come here to return the earrings, but you didn’t have a shirt on and I didn’t have pants on and I’m pretty sure it’s been a while for both of us and so biology took it’s course."</p>
<p>        "Heh, how long has it been for you?" he asked.</p>
<p>        "I had a really bad hookup last year, really turned me off casual sex. And I've not properly dated in years."</p>
<p>        "Why not?"</p>
<p>        "For a lack of better phrasing - nothing came up."</p>
<p>        Loki smiled at that and for some time we lay in silence once more. It was not uncomfortable, the room was warm, the silk was cool. I turned on my side to face him and wondered if it's okay to ask personal questions now. Bodily fluids have been exchanged, surely I could ask a question back.</p>
<p>        "How long has it been for you?"</p>
<p>        "Lisa and I broke up just after New Year."</p>
<p>        "And you didn't go on a binge?"</p>
<p>        "Oh I absolutely did, just not <em>that</em> kind of binge," Loki was still staring at the ceiling. "Rampant sexual promiscuity in a bad emotional time would not even be all that out of character for me, but for some reason I simply did not bother with it. And anyway my accident was a short time later."</p>
<p>        "So this is technically a rebound?" </p>
<p>        Loki's perfectly straight nose wrinkled in delicate distaste.</p>
<p>        "What a revolting turn of phrase - never again use it. I trusted you emotionally and I desired you physically, is that not sufficient?"</p>
<p>        Certainly it was sufficient reason to have sex with someone, but I wondered about other things in the background of his, I suspected very crowded, mind.</p>
<p>        Old anxieties, held at bay by pure debauched carnality began to resurface again. How I wished I could just turn them off, force myself not to think or to <em>un</em>think something. Damn self-envenomating mind, consistently conspiring against you at the worst possible times. </p>
<p>        "Incidentally," Loki's slightly good humored voice broke through my thoughts. "How is it that you know my sexual health status? Correctly, but still."</p>
<p>        "I read your medical files," I sighed. "The ones pertaining to the accident, sure, but also I needed to know what your baseline is, so I read the ones your London clinic transferred, which had your most recent physical results. You really get a full STI sweep every year?"</p>
<p>        "Habit," shrugged Loki. "As I said before, I had a bit of a colorful past."</p>
<p>        "How colorful?"</p>
<p>        "Ultraviolet."</p>
<p>        He seemed hesitant to add more so I left it at that. Instead I asked if his leg is hurting him.</p>
<p>        "A little," he shrugged. "But I spared it at the knee and you did as well, do not think I did not notice. And here I thought you quit."</p>
<p>        "I did, if I did not you would be doing laps in the pool now," I laughed.</p>
<p>        "Do you regret it?" He asked mildly.</p>
<p>        Oh but the implication behind that mildness! The uncertainty! For a second Loki lay, not simply nude but bare before me and I couldn't stand it.</p>
<p>        "No," I said categorically and meant it. "Nevertheless, I'm certain that guilt will never stop gnawing at me for this, though for now the buzz of being dicked well has not yet wholly worn off and that really helps.”</p>
<p>        “Well then,” said Loki, the lascivious smirk returning to his face, “I suppose we shall have to make sure you are quite incapable of rational thought for the next little while at least.”</p>
<p>        “If it’s not too much to ask,” I replied with mocking politeness as Loki pulled me toward himself again and I went willingly and allowed myself to dissolve against him.</p>
<p>        This time it was slow and languid, this time it felt like there was no hurry at all and there never was, this time is was different but just as good. Loki’s hands, his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth wandered my body, seemingly worshiping every inch for what felt like an eternity. Places I had never even mentioned to previous lovers he lavished attention unbidden until I was delirious with pleasure and his final climax after many more of mine seems to come as a surprise even him.</p>
<p>        It was after 4am when I stumbled into Loki's bathroom to sort myself out a bit before bed. Barely able to note that it was a technological and aesthetic marvel, after making use of the facilities I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered if Loki would be more comfortable if I went back to the guestroom for the remainder of the night. It was a detail we did not discuss. I was all ready suggest it when I entered his bedroom again and found him face down under a thin sheet, hugging his pillow. When not in a hospital bed he seemed to prefer to sleep on his stomach. When he heard me come in he wordlessly shifted a little to make room on the side of the bed closest to me and mumbled,</p>
<p>       “Do you need a separate blanket or will this do?”</p>
<p>       Something touched me about that small gesture, although I was not about to point it out.</p>
<p>       “This is fine,” I mumbled as I slipped underneath the sheet next to him and turned out the light on the bedside table.</p>
<p>       Loki’s arm snaked its way around my waist and settled just above the hip quite casually. He slipped off to sleep immediately after, in fact I was not entirely certain if he was fully awake during that last interaction at all.</p>
<p>       As soon as my body hit the mattress I suddenly became aware of how terribly tired I was. I was such a long, long, draining day, both physically and emotionally. A wave of exhaustion hit me and dragged me into a black abyss.</p>
<p>       I didn’t so much fall asleep as passed out unconscious.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hehehe,<br/>Told you it would be different from now on. </p>
<p>Regarding the title of the chapter:<br/>Corps à corps - (translates from French as "body to body") the action of two fencers coming into physical contact with one another with any portion of their bodies. Considered an illegal move in two of the three forms of competitive fencing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Rise and Shine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Morning sunlight didn't wake me but it certainly didn't help. It poured cheerfully through the long narrow windows and paired well with the sound of the shower running close by. It was that last bit that jolted me fully awake. I’ve been living alone for many years now and the sound of someone so close by to my sleeping self set off in my brain some sort of primitive fear for a few terrible seconds before I remembered that I did in fact go to bed with someone last night.</p>
<p>        And then the full force of all that was said and done in those wee hours of the morning hit me and I groaned and stuffed my head underneath the pillow.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Oh Christ, oh merciful God in heaven, I slept with him! I slept with a patient. I slept with Loki. I slept with him a whole bunch and then some.</em>
</p>
<p>        It was so good, it was such a bad idea but it was so good that my toes curled just thinking about it. It was useless to bemoan my actions now that it was clearly too late to do anything about them, but I still could not help but self-flagellate. I always took so much pride in my work and in the level of professionalism I showed that even if no one ever learned of my recent transgression I was never going to fully forgive myself for it.</p>
<p>        I knew that when I walked though the door of this room and closed it behind me. I knew and I did it anyway. Nothing to do now, but move forward.</p>
<p>        Pulling my head out from underneath the downy pillow, I tried to get some more sleep. It was probably late morning, but I could still doze for a little while longer. Eventually I heard the sounds of the shower die down and sometime later the door opened and Loki emerged. Through half lidded eyes I sneaked a peek. He had a towel wrapped low around his hips and was running another, smaller one through his hair before allowing it to slip to his shoulders.</p>
<p>        Well then.</p>
<p>        The view was <em>excellent</em>.</p>
<p>        Loki came up to the dresser and so turned his back to me, but his back was just an intriguing as his front so I had little reason to complain. He combed his hair so that the wet waves and tendrils slicked back and curled just a little at the neck. Then he took out a change of clothes from the drawers, reached out, picked up his cell phone and said, quietly but surely:</p>
<p>        “I want that password now darling, I am afraid I must insist on it.”</p>
<p>        “Mmm, you’re such a spoilsport,” I mumbled. “Who’s gonna e-mail you on a Sunday morning?”</p>
<p>        “People with urgent issues that cannot wait until Monday.”</p>
<p>        “Oh fine,” I yawned, “It’s 6969.”</p>
<p>        “Really?” his voice was all mock disappointment as he put the numbers in.</p>
<p>        “Don’t start pretending you hate my sense of humor now,” I said sleepily as I rolled over on my back and stretched. The sheet under which I was sleeping the whole night had wound around me and clung to my form as I did. Quite intriguingly, it would seem, since Loki turned and watched me for a few moments, then set his phone back down and walked towards me. When I got my stretches out of my system and propped myself on up my elbows, Loki came up to the bed and climbed on it and then atop of me, trapping me with his long limbs. He was pale and haughty, but his eyes were very blue and there was something of a fondness in them as well.</p>
<p>        “How can I?” He smiled wickedly, “When it is half the reason I am in this delightful position.”</p>
<p>        Loki's hand slipped underneath the sheet, his long fingers caressed my stomach drawing lazy circles that grew wider and wider until his fingertips reached the apex of my thighs. I squirmed under his touch as he slipped lower and started to tease me, caressing the inside of my thighs, then going deeper, parting me, running his fingers along my sex, toying with the clit with gradual, glacial movements. My head rolled back and a moan crawled out of my throat when his fingers slowly sunk into me. I laid back on the bed and watched him watch me as he pleasured me with his hand. I was so wet so fast it was mildly obscene - I could hear myself against his fingers. A familiar heat started to pool inside of me and my legs spread of their own accord as I chased the beginnings of a climax. Grasping the towel that still lay atop Loki's shoulders I pulled him closer, until he was close enough for me to kiss and my hands could slip through his wet hair. Loki grinned, withdrew his hand and trailed it up my body. The sheet had long since fallen aside and I watched in fascination as Loki used his fingers to coat both of my hard nipples with my own wet. Then, while holding me still by rib cage he lowered himself slightly and his mouth closed around the right one, his tongue toying with the hard bud. A jolt of pleasure spiked though me and I squealed and pulled him by the hair but he only chucked and doubled his efforts. Kicking away the bed sheets my legs went around him and tugged at his hips, trying to bring him closer in a reflex of need and want. </p>
<p>        “Did I not tell you?” he hummed after releasing one of my breasts with a salacious little pop and then blowing on it. “Did I not tell you your lovely legs would wrap perfectly around me?”</p>
<p>        “You’re too smug,” I moaned, somewhat surprised I got the words in the right order.</p>
<p>        It was heavenly torture being underneath Loki like this, writhing with arousal and anticipation.</p>
<p>        “Hmm,” he hummed as his mouth shifted to my left breast. “Not undeservedly so, I hope."</p>
<p>        His teeth closed around me once more and I squealed again, but this time more out of a strange sense of joy at being worshiped so perversely.</p>
<p>        "But tell me, my very dearest," Loki continued with infuriating, placid calm. "What are your opinions on delayed gratification?"</p>
<p>        His tongue was now doing lazy, only barely gradually widening circles around my left areola, his breath was ticking my skin, his nails were digging in to my sides firmly and I knew then that he would not give me quick mercy. Loki's hands slipped to my wrists and he pinned them down with his hands while his mouth continued to tease me; his lips leaving feather-light kisses and his teeth firm bite marks on my skin. It was mind-blowing how effective he was at this, how he would make me whine and beg and plead and not for a moment regret it. I was never an especially vocal lover, but with him an involuntary desire to scream to high heavens was barely containable. When he finally pulled away from me I was half way to out of my mind, gasping for breath and when I felt his fingers against my cheek I leaned into his touch like a cat.</p>
<p>        “You’re such an asshole,” I mumbled half-heartedly.</p>
<p>        Deftly Loki flipped me over onto my stomach. Over my head his right hand clutched my crossed wrists to the bed. His left drifted down between my body and the firm mattress, until once again his fingers sunk into me. </p>
<p>        “Do you want me to stop?” he asked calmly. "Tell me and I will."</p>
<p>        His fingers were rougher now, three entered me suddenly and the heel of his palm ground into me. My bones were liquid, my skin broke out in goosebumps, my eyes rolled back at the pleasure of it. I was so close and yet so far away from the precipice.</p>
<p>        “Dammit, no.” I rasped into the probably-Egyptian cotton sheets, my hips trying to move against his hand in reach of relief. His weight settled on top of me and it pushed me into the mattress. Loki's lips kissed the space between my shoulder blades and up to my neck gently, oh so gently. How could the touch of his mouth be so light and sweet and at the same time his hands be so severe and unyielding? He fucked me with his fingers, always searching, feeling, finding more places that made me tremble, more places that drove me mad. An eternity came and went and finally he shifted his body somehow and I felt his erection press against me. Although I could not see his face I was 200% certain that Loki was deriving an inordinate amount of pleasure from feeling me try to writhe beneath in into a better position. He let me have at it for a little while, his one had still holding me by the wrist the other still pumping into me furiously.</p>
<p>        The sheets beneath us were sodden.</p>
<p>        For a moment, in my frantic coital daze I felt Loki still a little. It was not as if he halted, for he was barely moving anyway, it was only that his movements became a fraction less certain. Then his fingers withdrew slowly and he reached to tilt my chin a little with them so that he could kiss and nip at my earlobe. better Without thinking I kissed his finger tips, still wet and smelling overwhelmingly of my own desire for him. He reached to put them in my mouth somewhat tentatively and I easily acquiesced, he moved to fuck my mouth with them and without thinking I accommodated and sucked them clean.</p>
<p>        A groan came from deep in his chest, I felt it at my back just as much as I heard it.</p>
<p>        "Oh dearest," Loki purred. "I am going to fuck you now."</p>
<p>        And then he slid into me at last.</p>
<p>        I was so keyed up and frantic that the sharp stroke with which he did so made me howl all sorts of nonsense that in retrospect was quite embarrassing to recall. I felt him in me, hard and glorious and my skin burned from the overwhelming tactile sensation. Both of his hands were on my wrists above my head now. The hold was hard as a vise, not painful but unrelenting and it held me in place as he settled into a hard, punishing rhythm. Now with more freedom to move my body I pushed back against him almost without thinking, out of sheer single-minded desire to me closer to him, to his body, to the fantastic sensation of pleasure that climbed and climbed and climbed until it finally shattered and cascaded over and over and over again. My last climax coincided with his, I felt him arch back and he growled something incomprehensive and probably profane before collapsing on top of me.</p>
<p>        We both stayed like that for a time, Loki shifted a little to give me room to breathe but his body still largely covered mine and his hands remained on my wrists, though slack. I didn’t really mind it, his weight over me was strangely comforting. Underneath him I felt hidden and debauched all at once, it seemed so silly for I had a not unimpressive sexual past. And yet something about the thoroughness of Loki's approach to fucking me, something about the single-mindedness with which he seemed to approach it, the level of thought he seemed to put in every carnal action made me feel precious. It didn't matter that he did it before, possibly (probably!) to many others. It mattered that he chose to do it to me now. Whatever else my decision to sleep with a patient made me, at least <em>he</em> didn't think it made me a cheap fuck.</p>
<p>        That thought made me sigh as wistfully and as deeply as Loki's weight on me would allow.</p>
<p>        Which in turn woke him from his post coital stupor and he rolled over onto his back and slipped up the bed until he sat with his back against the headboard and facing me. I sat up as well and for a second we just stared at one another in silence and then I burst out laughing and he smiled in return.</p>
<p>        “Oh Christ,” I said shaking my head and trying to gauge the level of disaster my hair was at, “it’s like we’re horny teenagers!”</p>
<p>        “The sex I had as a teenager was eventful, but also not quite so convivial,” replied Loki thoughtfully. Before I could ask what he meant, he took my wrists in his hands and passed his thumbs delicately over the bone and muscle. It was pleasant and soothing, he didn’t use excessive force and the skin was barely even red after our activities, but he still massaged it lightly and with a practiced casualness.</p>
<p>        “I’m all right,” I said after watching him for a time. “It ... you didn’t hurt me.”</p>
<p>        “Nevertheless,” he said mildly, his eyes still on his work.</p>
<p>        “You’re a bit of a Dom, aren’t you?” I said after watching him for a time.</p>
<p>        His fingers halted for only a fraction of a second and he inclined his head just a little to the left in a gesture of vague acknowledgement.</p>
<p>        “Not, I should think, exceedingly or exclusively so,” he said without looking up. “There are aspects of the lifestyle that appeal to me, but I would not say that I am especially deeply involved in it. I was never entirely certain at which point simple sexual preference becomes true kink.”</p>
<p>        He lifted my wrists up and kissed the prominent ulnar head bones on each one before lowering them. It was such a sweet simple gesture and yet it knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t help but lift my hands back up and fondly run my fingers through Loki’s still wet, now messy, hair - settling it back to approximately where it was before we got so delightfully distracted. A moment of silence settled between us, not exactly uncomfortable but one in which something perhaps was being left unsaid.</p>
<p>        I didn’t want the interaction to become awkward so I asked,</p>
<p>        “What time is it anyway?”</p>
<p>        “It was nearly 10AM when I came out of the shower,” said Loki as he moved to get off the bed.</p>
<p>        He was still wondrously naked and seemed in no hurry to rectify the situation, “it must be closer to half past now.”</p>
<p>        “I need to take a shower as well, may I use yours?”</p>
<p>        “Certainly, I will arrange some sort of late breakfast in the mean time.”</p>
<p>        Finally forcing myself to stop ogling him, I nodded, wrapped myself in the much disgraced bed-sheet and slipped out of bed and into the adjacent bathroom. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can no longer pretend this work has a "Mature" rating, updated it to "Explicit".</p>
<p>There will be more actual plot in the next chapter I swear  :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Loved and Lost.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        It took every bit of my fortitude and resolve not to climb into the enormous claw-foot tub with a delicate elongated side and fiddle with the bronze taps until scalding hot water enveloped me whole. I spent a long time admiring it and being tempted. My apartment had no tub, claw-foot or otherwise. Only when visiting my mother could I indulge in a delightful soak, as her Savannah home has a proper, if dated, bathroom. My fingers ran along the pristine porcelain edge and wondered if Loki actually bathes in there. A suspicious amount of evidence presented itself in support of this. There were all sorts of bottles and soaps on the nearby glass shelf and a number of fluffy towels were stacked on a sort of ledge very much within reach. There was a bathmat. Surely one doesn't have a bathmat unless they take baths.</p><p>        My overactive imagination treated me to an image of naked Loki, long black hair splashed across the pale porcelain, his eyes closed, steam rising from the water surface.</p><p>        <em>Well damn girl. You have to take that shower now. </em></p><p>        It was a walk-in with sliding glass doors and covered in green tile. I took my time, scrubbing every inch of my skin with one of those hard natural sponges and took turns either bemoaning or reveling in the post-coital ache. It took me some time to wash out my hair as Loki’s shower didn’t have the sort stuff I would need for my hair type, but it did have every other kind of hair care toiletry imaginable which just made me giggle. The smell of his soap and cologne engulfed me and I was getting a little silly over it. After I got out of the shower and wiped the mirror enough to get a good look at myself I had to admit to myself that this whole thing was really getting out of hand.</p><p>        This was more then sex. It was more than a crush. I was starting to seriously fall for him.</p><p>        I was indulging myself now, but soon this day will be over and tomorrow we will board a plane and get back to the US and there will be no more fun sexy times. And somewhere down the line, in a month or two, Loki will no longer require a physical therapist and my assignment will be over. I’ll head back to New York and he’ll head back to this place and we will never see each other again.</p><p>        <em>Oh Christ, when that time comes I’ll be heartbroken.</em></p><p>        It’s not like I didn’t realize this before, but as time went on I found myself more and more drawn to Loki, to the point that I was giddy at the smell of him. I was setting myself up for some grade-A, premium quality pain down the road.</p><p>        So what is better, superb happiness and pleasure now and consequently worse pain and heartbreak later? Or a low key un-acted upon crush and eventual slight feeling of disappointment? Is it even worth wondering about that now? I heaved a sigh, wrapped myself in a towel and tip toed out of the bathroom. After gathering my sleep shirt and panties from where they were discarded to last night I made it back to my guest room. Shivering a little I slipped into my last set of lounge-wear: ankle length Yoga pants and a a baggy t-shirt and after brushing out my hair and leaving it down to dry I headed downstairs.</p><p>        Even before I got to the kitchen I could smell something suspicious.</p><p>        I don’t know what I expected Loki would have for breakfast. Maybe cereal. Maybe toast. Definitely tea.</p><p>        I didn’t expect pancakes.</p><p>        I just kinda stared at the stack of them on the island.</p><p>        “How long was I in that shower?” I said to Loki who was perched on a tall chair and eating automatically while frowning at his phone, “Who even made these?”</p><p>        He simply lifted his eyebrows at that.</p><p>        “Nuh-uh, I refuse to believe you can cook.”</p><p>        “I am at a loss as to how you think I normally eat,” he replied dryly. “Granted, I eat out a lot, but as I do not have any staff living here and only a cleaner who comes in as part of the services the apartment offers, it is somewhat inevitable that I know how to make toast or scramble an egg.”</p><p>        “But pancakes?” I said skeptically.</p><p>        “I was under the impression Americans love pancakes," he said with a hint of genuine surprise. "Are they not always in your movies and TV shows? I am somewhat partial to them myself. Now stop being flabbergasted and eat, if you are so inclined. The food is getting cold.”</p><p>        He returned to frowning at his phone. I conceded that last point and started piling on the food. There was some fruit and cheese still left over from yesterday and there was even a small bottle of syrup. I also poured myself a cup of tea and settled at kitchen island across from Loki. The pancakes were delicious, because of course they were. How could it be any different?</p><p>        I was just finishing up my breakfast when Loki said, casually and without looking up from whatever he was doing,</p><p>        "Thor was hospitalized in Nepal.”</p><p>        I spat out my tea across the kitchen island.</p><p>        “What? Why?”</p><p>        Loki raised his eyebrows at the mess I made for a second before setting down his phone.</p><p>        “Altitude sickness," he elucidated. "Apparently he was far more susceptible to it than the rest of the party. It became obvious on the last leg of their ascent and he was rushed down to sea-level. I am somewhat sketchy on the exact time frame, and there is the time difference to account for, but it seems it happened sometime yesterday. He is still in the hospital now.”</p><p>        “Oh, but he’s all right, isn’t he?” I said, “Poor guy! And oh God, poor Val must have been so worried! They fully checked him out right? There is no chance of a pulmonary or a cerebral edema?”</p><p>        Loki paused to look up at me for a second before answering.</p><p>        “It was Valerie who contacted me and her e-mail was sparse on the exact medical details. She mentions that once they got him down the mountain and provided first aid his health improved and he recovered very quickly. It seems that he is still in the hospital for observation and to get some rest. He will be discharged in a few days. They are asking me to arrange transportation for their return. I am trying to figure out the availability of the jet right now.”</p><p>        I nodded and left Loki alone after that. With it being a Sunday he had trouble reaching the right people and it took him some time. He had to make several phone calls from his office which was in a corner room beyond the kitchen. To thank him for the breakfast I cleared and cleaned of the kitchen, then went upstairs and packed my bags just in case. It was always possible that we would need to leave sooner than planned. Then I went back downstairs, curled up on the couch and continued reading <em>If Walls Could Talk. </em>After about 30 minutes Loki came back into the living room and stretched out on the couch next to me. I shifted a little and moved to settle his head on my lap. He eyed me suspiciously, but when my fingers started massaging the crown of his head his shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes.</p><p>        “What’s the plan then?” I asked.</p><p>        “Everything has been arranged. Our flight will not be affected, the person in line after us agreed to postpone his trip. The jet will refuel in New York and head out to Nepal later that day, as soon as all the necessary work on it has been carried out. Thor and Valerie should arrive in New York one day after us, probably some time in the afternoon. I spoke with Valerie on the phone, Thor is fine, but was asleep.”</p><p>        As his inky locks slipped through my fingers I asked, "were you worried about him?”</p><p>        “Some,” he paused. “When I first saw the first message, more so.”</p><p>        We stayed that way for a time, Loki's body was relaxed and for a moment I thought he had nodded off, and perhaps he had. I picked up the book, but after a long stretch of silence he suddenly said:</p><p>        “Eye for an eye.”</p><p>        “Alright, you go first then,” I said.</p><p>        “What happened with your last relationship?”</p><p>         That Loki wanted to know at all surprised me, I considered that question for a moment.</p><p>        “I take it you mean actual relationship, not random Tinder date followed by some truly mediocre sex.”</p><p>        “Correct,” said Loki, his lips tugging in a small smile.</p><p>        On the one hand I really didn't want to get into it, on the other hand it was years ago and really what did it matter if Loki knew?</p><p>        “Just over three years ago I met a guy named Craig. He was a registered nurse, we worked together and really hit it off. We had a lot in common and the relationship progressed easily and quickly. I met his parents, he met my mom a few times, we went on vacation together, after nine months we moved in together and that went okay too, no real serious disagreements. Incidentally, he’s the reason I eventually got the 5-year coil, so it was that kind of relationship. We were together for a year and a half when he decided to apply for med school. He always had the qualifications, but the price was so prohibitive that he balked at the thought of so much debt and so became a nurse. But he never stopped wanting to study medicine and it ate at him. So when he suddenly he came into some money and decided to go for it. There was a lot of work to be done and I helped him and supported his as best I could. And eventually he got accepted to a school - University of Melbourne. In Australia.”</p><p>         Under my fingers I felt Loki wince a little.</p><p>         I sighed and rolled my head back on the couch and stared for a few moments at the white ceiling accented with entirely useless but very pretty wooden beams. Why was it still hard to talk about this? A generous amount of time had passed and yet the topic still felt heavy and clumsy and raw. </p><p>         “So, he moved out there and we decided to try long distance." I continued, trying hard for a casual tone. "But of course, it didn’t work out. His tremendous work load, plus my kind job, plus the time difference? We didn’t stand a chance. After he moved we tried to keep at it for maybe six month or so but as time went on we grew further and further apart. We went from a very close couple to just pen pals who occasionally sext. And then one day he calls me and tells me that he met another woman. That he's very attracted to her and she just gave him the indication that it’s mutual, but he hasn't acted on it because he’s technically still in a relationship."</p><p>         I had to step out onto a balcony of a MacMansion I was working at when I took that call. I still remember the chill of the evening air that day and the perversely cheerful pink scrubs I wore.</p><p>         "He told me he’s starting to resent our relationship and feels a lot of guilt over that at the same time. He didn’t want to live like that anymore. So we broke up. We did that thing where we decided we would be better off as friends and then never spoke to each other ever again. I don't know how he took the whole thing, maybe for him it was like closing out a gym membership before leaving the country, but on my end it hurt. I got used to ... I thought ... I could really see myself with him, you know? It wasn't perfect, but I thought that was going to be the one for good.”</p><p>         Loki made a noncommittal noise but of course he did know.</p><p>        “We broke up just after our two year anniversary,” I continued. “After that I didn’t really see anyone for a while, just focused on the job. Eventually I tried getting back into dating but didn't get anywhere. I had a few short no-strings-attached relationships and a good amount of one night stands. Then, just at the end of last year I met a guy online who seemed decent enough for a casual fling. But the sex was decidedly uneventful and although from the beginning I always said I was not interested in anything serious he got a little pushy and needy about the whole thing. He never went full creep but like, I live alone in a big city. I can take care of myself, but I still felt vulnerable and it was a really unpleasant experience. Afterwards, I just got so sick of getting diminishing returns on hookups and dating that I decided to take a break and get away from things if I could. So I ended up taking on more live-in assignments and when the referral company offered a placement somewhere upstate I was all for it and drove out there for an interview and here I am.”</p><p>        “Here you are,” agreed Loki and I thought I heard a hint of something sad in his voice.</p><p>        We lapsed into silence again, talking about Craig now after so long made me remember something, something I've never really told anyone. Not even Natasha who was one of my closest friends. Now that I remembered it I couldn't push it out of my mind, it would be silly to tell it to Loki of all people but at the same time, why not? Did I not just recently admit to myself that in a few months I'll never see him again? In this case surely that's a feature and not a bug of this whole set up?</p><p>        "I found out later, by accident," I said finally, "that Craig never applied to any university in the States. It was all abroad. Way abroad. He never told me this and I never asked where exactly he sent applications. A mutual friend mentioned it in passing and I ... it made me wonder about the whole relationship. It still makes me wonder."</p><p>        It felt both a little better and much worse admitting it to someone. Having said it out loud I wanted to forget it again. What difference does it make how he felt out our relationship? It's all over now, is it not? Why dwell on it? To distract myself I racked my brains for a time as I tried to think of an equivalent question. Or rather I tried to figure out if I should ask the one question I’ve been curious about for a while.</p><p>        “Loki?”</p><p>        “Mmm?”</p><p>        “Did you ever look into the circumstances surrounding your adoption?”</p><p>        Loki's shoulders tensed and I held my breath a little. Although from our second interaction onward there was an understanding that I knew of his family secret it was always an unspoken one. There was no doubt in my mind that Loki didn't want to talk about it, the question was just how much?</p><p>        “Yes.”</p><p>        “I’m not asking you to name them,” I said cautiously. “I just wanted to know if … if you were okay knowing them. If you feel better or worse about it. Or do you wish you didn’t know at all?”</p><p>        “I would never say I did not want to know,” he sighed. “This is a part of me, and it is important to know oneself. I just wish my mother told me instead, as was her original intention. She was a very delicate woman and we had a very close relationship. She would have broken the news gently and personally, but I am glad I know what I know."</p><p>        "Your mother seems to have been just as complicit as your father," I ventured carefully. "They both lied to you, but you seem so much more forgiving of her, why?"</p><p>        More silence, Loki's figure wasn't truly tense against me but neither was he relaxed. His eyes were still closed.</p><p>        "Once, the day before my thirteenth birthday I had an awful day at school - so I forged a note, hopped on a bus and left for the day." He said finally, it was as if he pulled out the first words from him lungs with pliers, but as he went on they flowed easier and easier. "I came home, thinking no one would be there but to my surprise both my parents were. I had to beat a hasty and quiet retreat, terribly fearful of being found out and punished, but I overheard some of their conversation. They were arguing. They rarely argued in front of us and always presented a united front. But that day I remember my mother was angry, she was saying - "It's been years! Sometimes I hate you for the lie you pulled me into! How could we let this go on for so long? It will have to be known eventually, why not tell now?" To which my father replied - "Someone so young will never have the sense to keep such a secret! We must consider what this sort of revelation would do to our image, the press would make insinuations and drag our good intentions through the mud! Think of what that would do to the children!".</p><p>        Loki's voice was quiet but clear with a careful absence of emotion.</p><p>        "That was all I heard," he said with a little shrug. "I did not think it was about me then, it did not occur to me at all that the conversation was about family matters. My thinking was that years ago daddy dearest made a shady deal that ruined someone and mother was in on it. She was involved in his early business ventures and much of her and her family's money went into it, so perhaps she knew a person or a family that suffered by it and felt responsible. My mother had a very profound sense of right and wrong. Looking back, it must have hurt her to be involved in such a lie, but my father must have bullied her into it year after year. She fought for me and he denied her every time. That is why I cannot hate her. As to the circumstances themselves…”</p><p>        He made a face.</p><p>        “Now that I know some of them, I can see what my father was talking about, on a good day I can even sort of understand his viewpoint. While the story of how I ended up in the Odinson's nursery is better than what I thought it would be, ultimately I do not think it matters very much because any story can always be presented in a nasty way. Yet I resent, deeply, his assumption that I could not be trusted with facts of my own life, well into adulthood, just because they might produce a scandal for him and his glorious, infallible image."</p><p>        “You mean if someone like Shrimpy McAsshole digs this up, he will spin it as scandalous and lurid regardless of what it actually is?”</p><p>        “Precisely.”</p><p>        “So in the end, how many people know?”</p><p>        “As far as I am aware, only my brother and his wife, my sister, the family solicitor and his younger partner, Lisa and now you. We had a housekeeper, Fulla, who was very close with my mother. After her death and my father's decline Thor and I paid for her retirement in Granada. I suspect she knows as well but she was always extremely loyal and fond of my mother. I doubt she would ever betray a secret that may reflect badly on her memory. ”</p><p>       “I won’t tell,” I said suddenly and a little too earnestly. “You know I won’t, right?”</p><p>       “Yes, I know,” he smiled. “I told you before, I trust you.”</p><p>       “Why?”</p><p>       “In this particular case, I simply cannot imagine you going to a tabloid for any reason what so ever.”</p><p>       “Hmm, it’s true, I wouldn’t even know how," I said lightly. "Do tabloids have like, an office or something? Or do you just yell into the nearest sewer?”</p><p>       Again Loki smiled, my hands played with his hair as I thought about all that was said some more.</p><p>       “I suppose Lisa, given her history with the press, is unlikely to sell this story to the papers.”</p><p>       “That is definitely my assumption for now," he said. "Although people can always sink below your expectations, there is nothing I can do about it now.”</p><p>       “I do hope this story never gets discovered," I said sincerely. "In part because I’m pretty sure that if someone published some trash regarding your mom you and Thor would actually team up and kill them dead. Which would be entirely deserved but, you know, killing people is wrong and stuff.”</p><p>       “Only if you get caught,” replied Loki blithely, his eyes still closed. “Do me a favor dearest, I think I am just about to nod off, wake me in half an hour or so, will you?”</p><p>       “You think I’m just gonna sit here and be your pillow for that long?” I asked in mock outrage.</p><p>       “Yes.”</p><p>       “Fine, you great big nuisance,” I grumbled. “You’re lucky there is more to this book.”</p><p>       Loki smiled, shifted himself a little against me and went quiet and still. I went back to reading. One of my hands slipped to his chest and rested there. I could hear the clock ticking in the hallway and the sound of traffic beyond the wide windows. It hurt me to think how domestic this scene was, how right it felt, how I could see myself doing this for years to come.</p><p>       <em>Again</em>.</p><p>       I pushed all that away, with every mental trick I could think of I pushed it all away and focused on the words on the page before me. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Nepal story is based on something that actually happened to Chris Hemsworth and his wife Elsa Pataky only it was for a Spanish documentary (as Pataky is Spanish).<br/>He talked about it a few times, including on Jimmy Kimmel:<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQzEhko6nYs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Safe, Sane and Consentual</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        “I have a proposition for you.”</p><p>        We were at the kitchen island again, having sushi for lunch. Loki ordered a large tray from some place downstairs.</p><p>        “It is not all together a terrible idea darling," cut in Loki before I could go on, "but I do not think I can take on a kept woman at this time in my life.”</p><p>        I chucked a spare set of chopsticks at his head and he had to lean to one side to avoid them.</p><p>        “Very funny, Rochester”</p><p>        “I know,” Loki deadpanned, “I am absolutely hilarious, but you were saying?”</p><p>        “I was thinking of a sort of extension of the eye-for-an-eye thing we have going," I said. "Specifically, a fantasy-for-a-fantasy arrangement.”</p><p>        “Ehe-he,” Loki put the phone down, folded his pale fingers and settled his chin atop them. His eyes were glimmering with a mischievous green fire. “An intriguing idea, but are you certain you know what you are setting yourself up for? What if my fantasy is not to your liking?”</p><p>        “Then we pick a different one,” I shrugged as a picked up a crunchy tuna roll. “Although I don’t think that will happen. For one thing I’m usually down for whatever filth comes my way and for another I suspect I know what's top on your wish list.”</p><p>        When I saw him throw me a questioning look I scoffed.</p><p>        “You said it yourself, you’re not terrifically into the BDSM scene. I suspect that you don't really get off on either inflicting or receiving pain, though it may feature now and then, what you really like is exerting a certain amount of control. You like calling the shots, you enjoy the extracting pleasure out of people on your terms. And I have no problem with that, because from where I'm sitting you're more than qualified to do it. Plus, you joked about being tied-up at least two times in casual conversation, so I'm going to guess that you have shibari rope squirreled away somewhere in this place.”</p><p>        Loki threw his head back and laughed.</p><p>        “Oh darling, but you are a hellish treasure! Very well, acknowledged, and what about you?”</p><p>        “Mine is ... well it's definitely a cliche, what can I say? It's less to do with what, the key for me is <em>where</em>.”</p><p>        Our eyes met, I lifted one eyebrow and for a brief second raised my eyes to the ceiling of his kitchen and nodded vaguely upward. Loki grinned merrily as he shook his head with theatrical ruefulness.</p><p>        “Oh I dearly wish my brother knew of our arrangement, I always told him he stumbles into brilliance by sheer accident and what better example of this than him hiring you?”</p><p>        “He didn’t stumble onto me, he employed a company to do it for him. And I will have you know I had a spotless record before your royal highness came along and fucked it all up.”</p><p>        “Some of the time I fucked you vaguely downward,” pointed out Loki placidly.</p><p>        “And at times also sideways," I acknowledged in the same casual tone. "My point is - my reputation's in shambles.”</p><p>        “What do you care?" said Loki, "You quit remember? You are now a single, overworked, healthcare professional enjoying a moment of leisure and looking for a good time.”</p><p>        “Good point,” I considered his statement for a moment and then the words, “let me make dinner today” tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.</p><p>        Loki’s eyebrows shot up, far higher that than a minute ago when I proposed we fulfill each other’s sexual fantasies.</p><p>        “Why?” he asked mildly.</p><p>        “Why not?” I said with a shrug, resigned to the fact that my brain-mouth filter is broken and the new ones are all on back order. “You made breakfast so I owe your for that, plus I take it you have to go back to work after this?”</p><p>        “For at least a few hours,” he nodded.</p><p>        “Well that gives me something to do other than sit around and be utterly brokenhearted that the kept woman arrangement is off the table.”</p><p>        “Just as well,” sighed Loki as he got to his feet. “A proper kept woman lounges on a fainting couch in a negligee and I do not have a fainting couch.”</p><p>        “And I don’t have any negligee,” I laughed and also stood up. “I suppose some things are just not meant to be.”</p><p>        "I suppose," he said as started to clear the countertop. “If you need any ingredients, there is a supermarket on the basement level. Otherwise, feel free to rummage through the pantry down the hall and grab whatever you need. I have not gone to the shops in six months so I do not quite remember what is in there.”</p><p>        "Mmm, well if something hatches and skitters in the dark I guess there's always that marble rolling pin in the drawer I could defend myself with."</p><p>        "Or the cast iron pans in the oven," Loki's voice was almost cheery. "Aim for the head darling and always hit twice."</p><p>        He pressed a not-quite kiss against my temple jokingly and then retreated back to his office while I took inventory and tried to figure out what to make. I didn’t want to make anything too complicated, as while I’m not a terrible cook I’m no chef either. It was autumn and I was craving hearty fall food so in the end I found that Loki has a set of small ceramic baking dishes and decided on chicken pot pie. Or rather eight mini-pies because it is just not possible to make a little bit of any kind of pie. I had to go to some fancy organic grocery store downstairs to pick up vegetables and cream and got some ingredients to make brownies while I was there as well. I dug up some frozen solid bacon in the freezer and there was just enough to make a decent Caesar salad. None of this was especially complicated, but did require a lot of prep work and because I knew Loki would not live here for at least the next few months I tried to leave no perishable food behind. The extra six mini-pies I wrapped up and stashed away in the mostly empty freezer after they cooled down. That might be a nice surprise for Loki when he comes back to live here for good.</p><p>        Out of nowhere that last thought gave me a serious punch in the gut.</p><p>        <em>Get over it. You knew this was how it was going to be.</em></p><p>        And yet I couldn't help it. I was playing house like a besotted fool, but always in the back of my mind was the thought that all of this is a fragile construct, an indulgent fantasy, a lie that both Loki and I had convinced ourselves we needed. With a sigh I got back into cooking, just to steady my trembling fingers. After the food was done I cleaned up and started poking around to see what dishes and things I could set out for dinner. It was early evening by then and as I stood at the island trying to see if I could still fold napkins into envelopes like my mother taught me eons ago, a small sound alarmed me and I turned to see Loki leaning on the doorway watching me calmly. His expression was once again difficult to read but there was something a little rueful in it. He was holding a bottle of red wine in his right hand so I fished out two wine glasses from the cupboards.</p><p>        “Are you done for the day?” I asked and cringed a little, since I felt like all I needed to add to that was <em>dear</em> and then slap some pearls on me and call me June Cleaver.</p><p>        “Probably yes, there is still a lot to do, but it requires me to read a giant contract and I may as well do that on the plane.” </p><p>        “I set everything up on the dinner table, is that all right?”</p><p>        “Hmm, yes, it would be best not to clutter the island at this time.”</p><p>         I was too busy over-thinking things in my head to give that statement the attention it deserved. </p><p>        “It’s a lot more stuff this time around,” I agreed. “It's keeping warm in the over for now, I tried not to make too much.”</p><p>        Standing in front of the kitchen island and still kicking myself for sounding like wholesome homemaker from the 50s, I didn't realize Loki came closer until he was right next to me. His right hand set the bottle of wine on the far edge of the counter and his left hand casually placed a neat coil of green rope between us.</p><p>        I froze for a second, all anxious thoughts evaporating from my mind.</p><p>
  <em>        Well okay then, maybe not so wholesome after all.</em>
</p><p>        I whirled to face him and was immediately and possessively pulled closer, his hands, large and sure, held me just above the elbows. Our lips collided, one of his hands immediately slipped underneath my shirt to grasp at my bare back, the other held me by the back of the neck.</p><p>        <em>Oh yes, yes please.</em></p><p>        Loki positioned me between himself and the kitchen island so that I could not move away, he was a more forceful this time around and his movements were more rougher but underneath I felt his restraint and his movements were also more precise. His fingers coiled around my throat, the thumb playing with the jugular vein, his fingers tracing the cervical vertebrae at the back. His grip was just firm enough to make me excited about it and as his hand shifted to the nape a hungry moan left my lungs. Loki inhaled it with a kiss and pushed me further against the marble edge until my back arched and his body was completely against mine. His hands took mine by the wrists and pinned them against the cold flat surface of the countertop, his mouth slipped to my ear and he pulled my earlobe into his mouth for a second making my hips jolt towards him helplessly.</p><p>        I was stretched out and trapped, I couldn't move, I couldn't think.</p><p>        It was lovely.</p><p>        “Listen to me, my darling,” Loki whispered and his voice was soft and assured. “If you tell me Stop, I will <em>stop</em>. For any reason. Do you understand?”</p><p>        “Yes.” I shook my head in ascent for good measure</p><p>        “<em>Excellent,</em>” his voice changed then, just a little, it was still assured and still honey smooth but there was a haughty, slightly bored quality about it now too. “Now get on your knees, pet.”</p><p>        <em>The spoiled prince and the chambermaid.</em> My brain guessed - if he has a scenario in his head it's that. <em>That's fine, I can work with that.</em></p><p>        “No,” I replied sullenly.</p><p>        This wasn’t my first rodeo either. You don’t submit on the first go, that’s not the point.</p><p>        Loki pulled away for a moment, our eyes met for just a second and I don’t know what he saw in mine, but in his I saw something like appreciation.</p><p>        “No?” he growled and put more pressure against my wrists as I tried to squirm.</p><p>        He bent down and nipped at my jawline hard, making me shriek. His mouth then traveled down in a long trail of light bites until he got to the chest. The shirt I had on was light, with a wide worn-out collar and a faded design. I wasn’t wearing a bra and when Loki’s teeth closed around my hard nipple through the soft cotton material I moaned from the sharpness of pleasure the gesture brought me. He did it again two more times, each time a little harder but in my keyed-up state the slight pain tickled at me, egged me on to do more and more.</p><p>        Then suddenly Loki's hands left my wrists. In one extremely smooth gesture he pulled my shirt off so quickly I felt my braid whip around my neck. Turning me around, Loki pushed me down over the kitchen island until my stomach and upper body laid on the flat marble countertop. The cold surface of the marble bit at my naked, flushed skin and made me hiss out a curse. Loki’s hands were extremely deft, in the few seconds it took me to adjust to the cold sensation he pulled my arms back and bent each one at the elbow. I felt the smooth tug of the rope against the delicate skin of my wrists and made a show of resisting, but Loki's hands were precise and vise-like. The rope coiled around me in a tight, efficient embrace. Two lines bound my upper arms to the torso, just below and above my chest, and were linked at the center between the breasts by a Y-like line that ran up and around my neck and down to my back where he secured to my bound wrists. When he was finished Loki pulled on that line and jerked me back up, my skin peeled from the counter and the feel of it made me shudder. His hands carefully, tenderly, brushed the few strands of loose hair to one side as he kissed my back, my shoulders, the nape of my neck all bisected by the ropes. My mind was melting, I was gasping and my breasts were heaving under the rope.</p><p>        “Will you kneel now, pet?” Loki's voice was a whisper against my flushed and bound skin. </p><p>        I didn’t trust my voice, for there was every chance it would betray me and I would beg. Instead I just shook my head stubbornly and vigorously, a movement that made the ropes rub against me harder, setting something off in me and making me grind against the edge of the counter helplessly. </p><p>        “You are so delightfully defiant," Loki seemed completely unaffected and somewhat amused. "Shall I do something about that?”</p><p>        His hand slipped down the front of my pants and palmed at me mercilessly and expertly. The middle and ring fingers fucked me and the heel of the palm ground into my clit roughly, my clothing was a sodden mess, my eyes rolled to the back of my head. How was it always this good? His long fingers kept bringing me to the edge of a climax and then retreating – once, twice, on the third time I shouted out in frustration and felt him chuckle behind me.</p><p>        “Oh, go to hell,” I grumbled, not entirely in character.</p><p>        “Yes, yes, I know,” he whispered back, I think not entirely in character either.</p><p>        His right hand resumed and this time it didn’t stop, his left slid up my body to fondle my breast, he cupped it and captured the hard nipple between his fingers. The simultaneous motions finally brought me to climax and I cried out as a wave of shuddering pleasure hit me. My legs trembled and I slid down and sunk to the floor, my sweaty forehead leaning on the polished dark wood of the cabinet doors.</p><p>        “You see, pet?” Loki’s voice was above me, smug and satisfied. “We got there in the end.”</p><p>        I heard the jingle of his belt buckle and I smiled drunkenly, still floating on the euphoria of my own orgasm. Loki’s hand came down and stroked my cheek and when I looked up I suddenly found myself facing his hips, staring at the exited length of him. From this vantage point there was quite a lot to work with. Loki put a hand through my hair as if to guide me but exerted no pressure. I shifted my legs to get into a better position, angled my head and took him into my mouth. There was a small inhale of surprise, as if he did not expect me to jump right into the act so easily and as I relaxed and took more of him in Loki's fingers fisted my hair on one side of my head as he groaned in pleasure.      </p><p>        This, combined with the slight pain from the hair pull, lit a fire in me all over again. Repeatedly and deliberately I took turns speeding up and then slowing down, doing effectively the same thing Loki was going to me just a little while ago. When I looked up I saw that with his other hand Loki was gripping the counter to steady himself. Slowly his hands started to exert more force, pulling at me to guide me. I didn’t fight it, I just let him set the pace which gradually quickened and got rougher and rougher until finally I lost it, gasped for air at the wrong time, gagged and pulled back coughing. Loki’s hand released me immediately, he sat back on his haunches to be more on the level with me and looked me in the eyes.</p><p>        As my breathing evened out Loki’s hand cupped my face and his thumb stroked my chin and my lower lip.</p><p>        “You did <em>very</em> well,” he smiled smugly. “I’m very proud of you, my little pet.”</p><p>        Fuck, that shouldn’t have had such an effect on me but it did, I leaned into his hand automatically and he stroked the side of my face fondly for a few moments, as if I was a stray.</p><p>        “Would you like to be rewarded?”</p><p>        “Yes,” I whispered, my face red-hot with entrancement. I wanted badly to be fucked, but in the back of my mind was the knowledge that it was Loki, I used to help him put his socks on and now I’m prostrate before him pleading for sex. It’s one hell of a role reversal to go though in four months, even if it was pretend.</p><p>        Oh but he kissed me then, gently somehow, despite everything, and his lips on mine made me forget not just the last four months but pretty much anything else on earth.</p><p>        With no way to balance I almost fell into him and Loki hauled me back on my legs and positioned me over the counter facing away from him again. Once again he planted kisses and bites all along my shoulders while his other hand traced aimless patterns on the inside of my thighs. His touch is light, almost ticklish - once again we was playing around and stretching out time. A piteous whine escaped my chest but he wouldn’t get closer. He stripped me of the remainder of my clothing with agonizing slowness, chucking at the state of my pants and panties. Then there was a small sound I didn’t recognize, like two glasses clinking, and the next time his lips pressed against my skin they were ice cold. I gasped out a curse that turned into a long string of profanity when the sensation repeated over and over again. He must have put an ice cube in his mouth and was having a hell of a time with it. My back, my shoulders, my arms, my wrists, my waist, my ass, my thighs, my aching, aching cunt all received the cold ministrations over and over and over. At the same time his fingers, still warm and gentle explored the rest of me and the combination of the two drove me crazy. I needed so little to get me off. Involuntarily, I tried crossing my legs but Loki’s knee slipped between my thighs, smoothly and casually, and I could not no such thing.</p><p>        A genuine cry of frustration spilled from me.</p><p>        "I know pet, I know,” he whispered and leaned over me. Suddenly I felt him all around me, I could feel his clothing touching my wet skin. While I was completely naked Loki was still completely dressed and there was something so obscene about it, it drove me the rest of the way insane.</p><p>        “Please, Loki, please” I finally whispered, no longer caring how I sounded, trying in vain to push back, to feel him more.</p><p>        He slipped into me then, in one sharp, unexpected stroke and my body arched and I screamed in elation as finally my denied pleasure was given to me. It gets hazy after that. Loki's thrusts were hard and punishing, he held me by my bound wrists with one hand and the other was around my neck. I don’t know how long that pace continued, it couldn't have been long but it was intense and I was utterly lost in the gratifying sensation of it. Something about my position and about the way he worked his hips was different too, some other part of me was reached and jolts of profound ecstasy shot through me, up my spine and down my legs. The final one was blazing and bright and all-encompassing, it took time for it to taper off, it wasn’t until then that I realized Loki was lying atop of me and must have peaked around the same time.</p><p>        I also realized there were tears in my eyes. The emotion of the coupling had no where to go and I cried in a stupid elated daze to get rid of it. It was my slight shuddering that woke Loki from his stupor.      </p><p>        He lifted me gently and lowered me to sit onto the kitchen floor.</p><p>        It was more cool tile on naked skin but the position allowed me to relax my legs and shoulders more. Now that the sexual lust has abated both were tense and aching from exertion.</p><p>        “Are you all right darling?” he asked and there was real concern in his voice. “Let me get this off of you.”</p><p>        The coils of rope loosened around me and took several deep breaths to steady myself.</p><p>        “I’m ok,” I mumbled, my voice was a little hoarse somehow, “I swear, I’m good. <em>So good.</em>”</p><p>        Behind me Loki chuckled and then the ropes were gone and a soft blanket went around me instead. The blanket was a good call, as the intensity of the moment passed I found myself shivering. At last I saw Loki’s face before me, features calm and fond and even a little tender. </p><p>        “I cannot lift you darling,” he said with real regret in his voice, “but we should get you to lie down and rest for a little while.”</p><p>        “That’s all right,” my head had cleared by now. “Just help me get up.”</p><p>        Still bundled into the blanket I curled up, tired and ache-y on one of Loki's many living room couches. My head ended up on his lap and his hand would occasionally run up and down my spine. I’ve never felt more at peace than in that moment, we didn’t say anything for some time, I didn't sleep, I listened to his steady breathing and allowed myself to relax.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Safe, Sane and Consensual is one of the mottoes of the BDSM community. </p><p>Loki uses a form of the "Box tie" which is a real basic BDSM rope pattern with many variations. Google at your own risk, obviously, as it can produce some VERY NSWF stuff in Image Search. </p><p>This was a real bear to write. I hope you enjoy it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Heart to Heart.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the delay, a young family member caught what turned out to be a simple seasonal cold but with everything as it is in the world right now we had to do a lot to make sure everyone was safe.<br/>Please take care of yourselves out there and I hope you will enjoy the story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        After about fifteen minutes I stirred and sat up. Though I was a naked mess under the blanket Loki sat down behind me and was massaging my shoulders and upper body, paying particular attention to the places where the rope had dug in. Again it felt strange, this role reversal, but it was so pleasant I didn’t mind it. When his long, steady fingers put firm pressure between my shoulder-blades I groaned and and lowered my head to my pulled up knees.</p><p>        I heard Loki's distinctive soft chuckle behind me.</p><p>        “The massage is all right, I take it?” he said with considerable irony.</p><p>        “Do you know how rare it is for a masseuse to get a massage informally? No one wants to cook for a chef either,” I replied.   </p><p>        Loki slowly pulled my shoulders back and although my trapezius and deltoid muscles ached slightly, it was no worse than the aftereffects of a good workout after the Christmas lazy period. I rolled my neck and shifted my arms and felt no lasting issues. Loki got to his feet, walked around and sat on the other end of the couch, this time facing me and started on my arms from the wrist up to the shoulder. His hands were steady and careful, I watched him work for some time and after he switched from one arm to the other I asked:</p><p>        “How was it for you?”</p><p>        His blue-green eyes shot up to meet mine briefly, although his hands never stopped working.</p><p>        “Good. Really good.” He said and then added after a pause, “to the point that I’m starting to think all this was a bad idea.”</p><p>        I laughed ruefully.</p><p>        “Yea, I know exactly what you mean.”</p><p>        When Loki finished the massage his hands settled on top of mine, gently and as if by accident. We sat in silence for a moment or two. It was as if I had something to say and yet I didn’t know what it was. I wondered if he felt the same way. After a time he pulled his hand away and I wrapped myself in the blanket up to my chin.</p><p>        “What happened to my clothes?” I asked, more to simply fill the silence that formed than anything else. When Loki passed them to me I got to my feet and went up stairs to change. I couldn't help but laugh at the obscene state of my clothes, but they presented a whole other problem.</p><p>        I had no more casual clothing, when I packed my bags for this trip I took very little with me, I had spare underwear but my remaining options were a step higher in formality. I frowned at the soft designer jeans and pricey blouses spread out on the bed before me. I didn't even bother looking at the pencil skirt. There was nothing wrong with any of these things but they were <em>dressy</em>. There was a full dinner laid out downstairs. Add to that the low evening light, Loki's business-casual-but-with-actual-style get up, and now my own fancier clothes this all was starting to look too much like a date.</p><p>        Which it wasn't. Of course it wasn't.</p><p>        For one thing no date <em>starts</em> with the guy bending you over the nearest piece of furniture, tying you up and railing you good and then gently proceeds to dinner.</p><p>        At least no date I've ever been on.</p><p>        But it was more salt on the wound, more information for my brain to remember and bring back to me vividly in a few months time when this is all over and I'm back at my studio apartment in Queens lying awake at night staring at the weird stain on the ceiling. But what else was there to do? I pulled on the jeans and a lavender Kate Spade top, fixed up my hair, drew a firm line at putting on makeup and made my way downstairs. In the time I was gone Loki plated and put the food on the table, the smell of it made me realize how hungry I was. It seems like Loki was too and for a time we ate in silence.</p><p>        "This is excellent," he said at one point. "Thank-you, it has been a long time since I've had a hearty home cooked meal."</p><p>        "I'm glad I got to do it," I replied.</p><p>        As the hunger abated the atmosphere relaxed, we chatted some more.</p><p>        “You have done this sort of thing before, I take it,” asked Loki gesturing vaguely at the length of green rope innocently and casually left on a nearby end table in the living room.</p><p>        “Mmm, yea, a bit” I replied after taking a sip of wine. “Rope stuff specifically was back in college, but with kink being more in the zeitgeist now its kind of inevitable that someone will want to restrain you in the bedroom these days. Although I feels like more often than not it’s for the wrong reasons.”</p><p>        “The rise in mainstream popularity of kink feels like a mixed blessing” agreed Loki. “It is now far harder to embarrass people with details of their private life, making them less susceptible to blackmail or repression, but at the same time if you do not know what you are doing in this lifestyle you can get seriously hurt.”</p><p>        “Sex related ER injuries have been on the rise for a while apparently,” I said remembering something a paramedic friend told me once.</p><p>        “Does not surprise me. Has it ever happened to you?”</p><p>        “Not in any lasting or serious way,” I said and then laughed at the memory. “This one time in college though, I was seeing a guy who was really into this sort of thing, but he came from a really religious family so it was very hush-hush. Well one time he and I were messing around and he tied my hands back. Not bent, like you did it, but straight out in this complicated sleeve thing. Anyway, just after he was done his phone rang, it was his mother calling long distance from Utah to talk to him about his cousin’s wedding or something. And he took the call.”</p><p>        “Oh good lord," Loki looked downright appalled.</p><p>        “It gets better!” I continued with a laugh. “He felt really weird about having a hogtied naked girl on his bed as his mother discussed church hall decorations or whatever, so he left the room and was gone for a good 15-20 minutes. I was <em>so</em> livid. I thought I was gonna kill him.”</p><p>        “No doubt.”</p><p>        “Obviously the relationship didn’t last long after that. In the grand scheme of things a bit of a cramp is not the worst thing but I’m still glad I raked him over hot coals for that one. What about you, injuries?”</p><p>        “Thankfully not, though in my younger and more adventurous days, when I kept different company, I knew one or two people who have gotten hurt through play. One pulled a muscle because she was strung up wrong and another got burned. We were all young then, and careless, I am thankful it was not worse.”</p><p>        I leaned back in the chair and looking past him at the recently cleaned island asked, my tone was half joking.</p><p>        "So then I'm afraid I have to ask, was the kitchen location a specific part of the fantasy or was that just how the cards fell?"</p><p>        "Hmm, a bit of both, I suppose? The very dull and practical answer is that I needed a place where there are good scissors nearby, should you have a panic attack midway. Which is not uncommon." Loki answered casually, and I had just enough time to admire the extent of his forethought before I saw him looking away, he seemed almost a little embarrassed as he admitted. "And well ... there was a beautiful, barely dressed, barefooted woman in my kitchen making me dinner. And there was something comforting and peaceful about that image so, naturally, I wanted to debauch it."</p><p>        "Of course!" I rolled my eyes, "a natural conclusion to make!"</p><p>        "My mind is a hideous maze of perversities, schemes, forever in-process plans and projects, bitter memories and delectable experiences. It is very crowded in there."</p><p>        He was only half joking, I knew, but it was probably true that Loki's mind worked a little different than anyone else's. I often wondered if he was, in fact, not neurotypical at all. </p><p>        "Have you ever looked into that?" I asked gently.</p><p>        "Into what?" The blithe innocence of the statement betrayed entirely the fact that he knew what I was talking about immediately.</p><p>        "Your mind and the crowded state thereof," I said patiently. "Have you ever wondered if it comes with a diagnosis? You mentioned your sister has empathy issues, is that something that was ever looked into? By either of your parents for example?"</p><p>        "Hela does not have 'empathy issues'," answered Loki and I could almost hear he dismissive air quotes around my phrasing. "Hela simply does not have empathy. I am not overburdened with it either but sometimes I wonder if I rather learned it from her. I am fairly certain I was born with some, unlike her, but as time went on I found myself having less and less of it to spare." He sighed and after considering it for a moment continued. "No, I never looked into it. As a child I was fearful of what anyone curious enough may find, so I hid it, all of it.  It was the 90s you must understand, going to a psychiatrist, especially a child one, was not an accepted thing. I did not want to be a difficult child at first, you see. Hela's blow-ups with Odin were so awful, and I wanted his approbation so badly ..."</p><p>        Loki broke off and rubbed the bridge of his nose between the eyes.</p><p>        "I forgot how much I do not like talking about this," he said finally.</p><p>        His voice was so tired. I wanted to come up to him and give him a hug - a stupid, pointless desire! And yet I truly wrestled with it for a few moments.</p><p>        "Then let's not," I finally said brusquely, "I'm sorry I brought it up. Let's eat dessert instead. Do you want vanilla ice cream on your brownie?"</p><p>        "How obscenely decadent - obviously yes," Loki smiled and just like that the topic was gone.</p><p>        Except I suspected not. It was probably always in the back of his mind, because there were probably a million things at the back of his mind, chiming up occasionally. He clearly had coping mechanisms for it.</p><p>        I got to my feet and cleared the plates off the table, then grabbed the two baking dishes remaining in the oven which I had wrapped them in aluminum foil to keep them warm. While I fussed with the dessert, Loki made tea. While placing generous dollops of Vanilla ice cream I decided that a change of topic was in order and since, hilariously, talking about kinky sex was less awkward with Loki than talking about his family I asked as I place the two dishes on the table and sat back down.</p><p>        “So how did you get into all this BDSM stuff?” I asked easily. "You have actual knowledge of safety and aftercare and stuff. That's not nothing, you probably didn't just read a questionable best seller one day and decided to give ropes a go."</p><p>        “Ehehe indeed not," he chuckled. "Back when I was a very young lad, in Cambridge, I had a short relationship with a girl who was into BDSM. It did not work out for a number of reasons but the relationship was very ... instructive. She was the type to switch, and our roles were never set in stone but mutable. We were not together for long but we tried many different things at one point or another. Afterwards I continued to experiment with different partners for some time, most of them were very open minded. You?</p><p>        “Something similar,” I said. “Minus Cambridge, by the way, I thought you went to Oxford?”</p><p>        “No, you assumed so because I said I studied in Oxfordshire, which I did. I went to a boarding school there as a child for a few years. A place called The Dragon School.”</p><p>        “Dragon School? Seriously?” I could not suppress a fit of giggles.</p><p>        “I assure you, it is a very respectable place," said Loki placidly.</p><p>        “Uh-huh, and were you sorted to Ravenclaw or Slytherin?”</p><p>        “You laugh, but I believe Emma Watson attended the same school, though much later. But this is how it is in the UK. There is a whole network of high pettigree schools for the privileged. My parents happened to have the money to assure a very prestigious type of education for me. That being said I rather hated boarding school and my mother disliked having us away. I eventually transferred to a school in London. Just as posh but I could live at home.”</p><p>        “To be fair, I think US is like that as well, there is a network of very exclusive private schools that make it easier to get into Ivy league universities. Only the very rich or the extremely bright and lucky get in and I was never a part of that life because I’m a dim peasant.”</p><p>        “Was the education your received inadequate?”</p><p>        “It’s hard to say when you don’t know what you are comparing your experience to. Also, I barely remember the middle school in Savannah. Everything before my father's death and immediately after is now a sort of blur. In New York I was relatively lucky, my high school was a decent one and had a strong science department. I had good teachers and that was where I discovered I had an affinity for biology and particularly kinesiology. From that point onward I seriously considered something in the medical field until I finally settled on PT.”</p><p>        “I did not realize you actually lived in Southern United States for so long," said Loki, his dessert was gone in a flash, before the ice cream even melted.</p><p>        “Oh yea," I laughed. "If I get drunk enough my Southern accent comes out and everything.”</p><p>        “How regretful that I never got to witness such a thing!”</p><p>        “Daurlin’ you’ve aunly to ausk,” I said with an exaggerated drawl.</p><p>        Loki laughed at that.</p><p>        “That’s nothing," I added. "My mom sounds like an extra from the barbecue scene in <em>Gone with the Wind</em>.”</p><p>        “So how did a Southern girl like you end up in New York city?”</p><p>        “When I was 12 my mom re-married and Paul talked her into moving with the reasoning that there were more jobs available in New York at that time. This was during the recession in the early 90s. I don’t know how true it was for other people, but I’m pretty sure Paul never found any work cause he didn’t want to find any. He was kind of a scumbag? My strong suspicion was always that he moved mom and me out of Savannah because mother had a strong support network of friends and relatives there and as his shine started to wear off after a couple of years of marriage and he felt their dislike more and more he found it useful to separate us from the community and transplant us to a completely different one.”</p><p>        “Was he … abusive?” Loki's voice was hesitant.</p><p>        “No, maybe financially? But ultimately, he was just a lazy dick,” I replied. “In the olden times he’d have sold a lot of snake oil. He talked a good game, about his plans, about his big ideas and investments, how he was going to formally adopt me, make enough money so that mom would never have to work, stuff like that. In the end they barely scraped for a decent wedding and only because my mom insisted on one for religious reasons. I never minded living New York, in fact I took to it very well. The more strict community we were part of in Savannah was getting very stifling for me as I started to hit puberty. But mom missed it something terrible and never adjusted. Around the time I was accepted into college mom got the news that her mother had a stroke. It was the last straw for her, she just packed up and moved back to take care of Gran the next month and separated from Paul as a result."</p><p>        "Are they still together?"</p><p>        "Nah, mom's Catholic but not <em>that</em> Catholic. She wrangled a divorce from him eventually. But she assumed I would come and live with her, transfer to a school there and when she realized I wanted to stay in New York she was pretty hurt and our relationship was strained for a time. I wasn't happy about how much it hurt her, but I was happy where I was, so I stayed behind.”</p><p>        “And is it still strained?”</p><p>        “With Paul more or less out of the picture, much less so. Overtime I mellowed out and so did she. The distance did both of us a lot of good in the end. We are very different people and because of my father’s death she sort of over-focused on me. It’s not unusual and pretty understandable in her position but it was still unbearable when you’re a teenager to have a mother that hovers around you so.”</p><p>        “Does she still hover?” asked Loki as he drained the last of his second cup of tea. All his questions were in an extremely mild, casual sort of tone that implied he did not care very much and was just killing time chatting. I wondered how true that really was but as I didn't have any problems talking about my life and my past. </p><p>        “Oh she tries," I said. "But it’s hard to hover from half a country away and I believe her exact phrase was that 'packs o wil’ dogs won’t drag‘er to Neu York augain'.”</p><p>        Loki chuckled again and got to his feet, “does she drink Mint Juleps too?” he asked as he cleared the dining room table and carried the tea things back to the kitchen.</p><p>        “Naturally," I relied as I helped him put things away "and sweet tea, it preserves her against the heat and the sin.”</p><p>        As he turned on the dishwasher Loki asked, “is your name particularly Southern then? I cannot recall hearing it before.”</p><p>        “Not especially, but it’s old time-y and a bit rare, which is exactly the sort of thing mom likes, she told me she got it from an Earl Stanley Gardner novel.”</p><p>        Loki was now shifting things around in the fridge, finally he took out the little carton of heavy cream and poured the very little that was left down the sink.</p><p>        <em>Right. We’re leaving tonight.</em></p><p>        With everything that happened I somehow entirely forgot our flight was so soon. I watched him complete the task and as he turned away to throw the packet into the trash he said, “we might as well get some sleep. It’s close to 9pm now, a few hours of rest would do us both some good.”</p><p>        His voice betrayed no emotion, I couldn’t really argue with his logic but I didn’t want to go to bed. I wanted to stay here in this kitchen and chat with him - happily and casually, relaxed and sated in every possible way. I wanted to stay here forever. It was a stupid notion that made me angry with myself. I wasn’t a little girl. What the hell was I thinking?</p><p>        We made our way upstairs, but the hallway presented a different problem.</p><p>
  <em>        Where was I to sleep?</em>
</p><p>        It was highly unlikely we would be having sex in the next little while, so there was no carnal need for us to be together. Although I’ve slept next to Loki before, I didn’t want to make the same assumption again. Without thinking, or perhaps while in the process of overthinking, I stopped in front of the door to the guest room, uncertain. Loki came up the stairs behind me, laid one hand on my shoulder, pulled me towards him a little, enough to press his lips to my temple in that not-quite-kiss he seemed to be fond of.</p><p>        “That is entirely up to you,” he said quietly. “But either way, good night.”</p><p>        I watched him walk down the hall and into his bedroom. He did not close the door and instead left it slightly ajar.</p><p>        Going back to my room I washed up for the night and changed into a clean sleepshirt. I made sure all my belongings were packed and my clothes for tomorrow were laid out. I brushed out and braided my hair. When I was done I sat down on the edge of the bed while looking at my own reflection in the dresser mirror. There was something odd about my face and it took me a second to realize that I was really quite tired and still low-key completly bewildered by the events of the last few days. It was not longer in me to overthink. Getting to my feet I turned off the guestroom lights and padded barefoot down the hall to Loki’s. His room was dark, but there was light coming from the hallway and from the London night life out the window. Loki was in bed, laying on his side and away from the door and so from me, but as I slipped under the covers he turned to lay on his back and his arm snaked around me and pulled me closer. I nestled under his arm, face against his once very bruised and broken chest. His thumb ran up and down my shoulder casually.</p><p>        “She was my adoptive father’s secretary,” he said quietly into the night around us, “her and my adoptive mother were great friends.”</p><p>        <em>What? Oh …</em></p><p>        I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. I just laid a hand on his chest and listened. </p><p>        “She was with the first company Odin started, back when it was still very small. Mo- ... my adoptive mother used to work there part time as well, not for the money of it but because she was good with people and my adoptive father was so abysmal at it. It was an early IT company, they had a staff of maybe fifteen-twenty others. When the company’s first merger was on the horizon everyone stayed late getting things in order. Obviously his secretary was one of the people that stayed the latest, it was well into the evening when Odin was finally satisfied with the state of things and let the last of his staff go home. Her husband drove to pick her up from work that night. On their way back they were hit by a drunk driver who ran a red light. He died instantly. She died in the hospital some days later.”</p><p>        I lifted my head to look at him. Loki was staring at the ceiling, his eyes unseeing and unreadable in the dark room.</p><p>        “What about …” I wasn't sure how to phrase it so I trailed off.</p><p>        He heaved a sigh.</p><p>        “I was only six months old and apparently had just started sleeping through the night. My birth parents were understandably reluctant to wake me and bundle me into the car for a half-hour drive. It was February and the evening was a cold and unpleasant one. So they asked an elderly neighbor to keep an eye on me for only a little while. It was not a far drive. I can only imagine what that neighbor was thinking three or six hours in.”</p><p>        “And after?”</p><p>        “Odin felt responsible, no doubt. She was returning late from <em>his</em> place of work after all. And my eventual adoptive mother knew the couple and no doubt her endless sense of compassion was stirred. So they took me in, first just until the next of kin could be located, but apparently, I had none. There was one grandmother, but she was in a care home herself and in no state to care for a child so young. So I remained with them and eventually the decision was made to adopt me formally. As their biological children were quite young they did not tell them the distressing and complicated details of my appearance in their household. I was introduced to them as their brother and Hela and Thor accepted this easily. A few years afterwards the merger was finalized and the resulting company hit true success. And so my adoptive parents entered the upper class world of big money and backstabbing realpolitik as a married couple with three children.”</p><p>        “Was your name always the same?” I wanted to ask before but was unsure, now it seems there was nothing to lose.</p><p>        “Yes,” he answered. “Had my birth parents lived, I would have been Loki Lafeyson and my life would have been completely different in every conceivable way. I think about this a lot. I think about them a lot, both of them, all of them. The ones I knew, or I thought I knew, and the ones I did not know at all.”</p><p>        As I lay there curled up under Loki's arm I thought about the young couple, eager to get on the ground floor of a good thing. The company was thriving and even if Loki's adoptive father was probably not easy to work with, they were committed to it enough to put extra work in, rearrange their schedules, shift childcare to the father, which was rare in those days. I thought about the father saying goodbye to a sleeping child, telling himself he’ll only be gone a moment. I thought about a mother whose dying thoughts must have been about her baby, alone in the world. And I thought of Thor’s parents, feeling the weight of the blame for all of it. Coming to the realization that they were suddenly in a unique position to help care for this child.</p><p>        Then I remembered Morgan Priesley’s nasty little ferret face.</p><p>        If he were to know any of this, how much awfulness and scandal and rumor would he dredge up? How much slimy hints would be drop? How many assumptions would he play on? With neither the Lafeysons nor the Odinsons there to defend themselves or keep him in check he would run riot! A man keeps and formally adopts his dead secretary's baby! He would hardly need to work hard to make insinuations. The insinuations wrote themselves!</p><p>        And it would hurt Loki, all of it, it would hurt him so much!</p><p>        I lifted myself enough to place a comforting kiss on his forehead just above his right eye.</p><p>        “Thank-you” I whispered into the darkness around us after I settled back down and his arm momentarily squeezed around my waist in slight acknowledgement.</p><p>        Curled up against him, I waited until Loki's breathing slowed and his body relaxed as sleep took him. Then I fell asleep myself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Highs and Lows.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        I woke up because Loki slipped out of bed and into the shower. He did it very gently, but I wake easily and I acutely felt the loss of his warmth and his touch, which, I supposed as I sat up and stretched, I might as well get used to.</p>
<p>        Although I had no regrets, and my 24 hours were not quite over.</p>
<p>        Shivering, I left the very warm and very comfortable bed and made it back to the guestroom and into my own shower. After washing up and drying my hair I took the multitude of hairpins I had left over from the gala and arranged my hair into a slick neat bun at the back of my head. I had limited make-up with me, but I made great use of the lipstick given to me by Poppy from Essex. Then came the pencil skirt and a nice little navy silk button-down blouse and finally I subjected my feet to the beautiful Louboutin’s again and stood before the mirror examining myself critically.</p>
<p>        Considering this was thought up and executed a bit on the fly, the results were not bad.</p>
<p>        Loki certainly seemed to think so. When I came down the stairs he stared a little and returned my smile with a wicked gleam in his eye. It took him a some time to sort out the last odds and ends in the apartment before we left and as I watched him I realized that he was stalling, as many do when they are putting off a task they do not want to go through. I didn’t call him out on it. I knew what it was like to miss home, as my own mother was miserable away from hers for 6 long years. If you're lucky enough to have a cozy haven of your own, leaving it is always hard. Loki was no extrovert though he could swim among them so easily they often mistook him for one of his own. He enjoyed luxurious living in a place were everything was just so. I could understand that and I certainly wasn't about to criticize. </p>
<p>        A hired black car took us to the airport again. There was very little traffic and as we sped along I watched the sleeping neighborhoods through the tinted window.</p>
<p>        “You did not get to see much of the city,” said Loki mildly.</p>
<p>        “And yet somehow I don’t feel like my time was wasted,” I smiled. “Besides, I’m never one for tourist traps. I’ve been on a Ferris wheel when I was ten, I feel like that was enough for my lifetime. And though I love history, I’m not one for seeing places where people died terribly and had their heads put on pikes. Even if it’s all cleaned up now.”</p>
<p>        “It is a little macabre I suppose, and from what I understand the guides play that aspect up a lot. There is a Jack the Ripper night tour as well, which I always felt was a bit much and yet apparently people flock to it. On the other hand, I hear that the reconstructed Globe Theatre is quite a good experience.”</p>
<p>        “Have you never been?”</p>
<p>        “Not there, I am a true Londoner and therefore regard all tourist related places with extreme apathy. I have seen loads of plays on the London stage though. Lisa was an Arts correspondent for a time and I often came with her.”</p>
<p>        There was something very right about that. In my mind's eye I could see the two of them together - they made sense. A well put together millionaire and his artistic writer girlfriend. Seeing plays together, going to galas and events, eating in expensive London restaurants. Everything done with a bit of a sneer, just a bit, just enough to make it seem glamorous.</p>
<p>        "Are you certain it’s over?” I asked on impulse. “The relationship you had, it probably made you both happy. You’ve had a big fight, but it’s probably fixable. Couples come back from all sorts of things.”</p>
<p>        Loki thought about that for a minute.</p>
<p>        “No,” he said finally. “There are other factors, but ultimately, I just don’t trust her anymore. I no longer believe the things she says. If I cannot take my partner at their word but instead keep wondering if they have an ulterior motive for the things they do, what good is that relationship? Even if their actions are aboveboard most times, even all times, my doubt of them ruins it all. I am not the type to recover trust in someone, perhaps that is a failing, but it is a failing to do not wish to fix.”</p>
<p>        I couldn’t argue with that, so we left it there and arrived at the Farnborough Airport soon after, with quite a lot of time to spare. Rather than sit in the car an airport worker offered us refreshments and led us to a bar and lounge where we could wait in comfort. The bar was open which I found a bit ridiculous. Who drinks before a 5am flight? And yet there was an older gentleman in a business suit nursing a tumbler of something amber when we came in. Maybe he was flying somewhere where it’s 5pm.</p>
<p>        Instead I stood by the wide glass wall and watched as one jet took off and the next taxied up from some far away hangar. Against the night the nearly empty lounge was perfectly reflected to me in the glass and I saw that Loki was watching me from his seat - his gaze made me shiver. I turned and slowly walked towards him and stood before his long legs. He watched me with amusement, but didn’t so much as raise a finger.</p>
<p>        “I like the skirt,” he said quietly. “I have not seen you in one before and I find it very enticing.”</p>
<p>        “I have a weakness for sexitary clothes,” I smiled.</p>
<p>        “Hhm, I have a weakness for legs that go on for days,” replied Loki bluntly, his eyes were lustful but he still didn’t move a muscle. “It seems our weaknesses are complementary.”</p>
<p>        “Not for the first time,’ I said with a laugh.</p>
<p>        “I should have gotten you thigh-highs with seams running down the back, in addition to everything else.” His hands moved, but only to unbutton his suit jacket, he leaned back and his right hand draped casually over the back of the couch. “Of course, when I made the arrangements for the purchase of your gifts I did not expect I would be having sex with you.”</p>
<p>        “No?” I said and raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, that’s a relief, I’d hate to have been the subject of a carefully planned out conquest.”</p>
<p>        “I am generally a student of chaos when it comes to sexual escapades," he replied mildly.</p>
<p>        “So you didn’t think this trip would end in a hookup? Even a little bit?”</p>
<p>        “No.”</p>
<p>        A chipper, competent and professionally disinterested voice of an airport attendant suddenly sounded behind me.</p>
<p>        “Mr. Odinson? The plane is ready to be boarded.”</p>
<p>        “Thank-you,” said Loki looking past me. I took a step back and he got to his feet. His hand drifted to my waist to guide me forward and he followed close behind. Just before I got to the gate he whispered in my ear, "but perhaps I dreamed of it a little, who knows?"</p>
<p>        I smiled at that.</p>
<p>        We boarded the jet amidst quite bracing gusts of wind that made my teeth chatter. The things one does in the name of being sexy! Boots and pants and other warm things would have been infinitely more suitable to the weather but my costly cashmere coat was packed up in a box as I felt it was a little much for traveling and the hoodie I wore on the way here really clashed with the look I was going for so I hopped to and fro in a flimsy blouse and skirt combo and not much else. It was not too bad most of the time as all cars and buildings were quite warm but the tarmac was another story and I all but shot up the airplane stairs with Loki on my heels looking highly amused.</p>
<p>        “Dearest, would you like my jacket?” He said with a grin as he settled in and stretched out his legs. “Or would you prefer to get warm some other way?”</p>
<p>        Meeting his gaze I bent down and started to running the palms of my hands along my bare legs to warm up. My chest pressed up against my knees and my legs parted just a little, just enough to tease. Several long seconds passed this way before the noise of the plane door shutting with a bang broke the moment.</p>
<p>        The new chipper flight attendant (named Karina) came around to see if we would like anything and I asked for hot tea. Loki asked for the same and then asked quite casually when breakfast will be served.</p>
<p>        “Three hours after take off,” replied Karina. “At 8am London time.”</p>
<p>        “Would it be possible to have it earlier?” he asked while glancing up from his phone. “I am quite tired and was hoping to sleep through most of the flight.”</p>
<p>        “Of course, would an hour into the flight be more suitable for you?”</p>
<p>        “If it is not too much trouble.”</p>
<p>        “Certainly,” she turned to me. “Would madam like her breakfast early as well?”</p>
<p>        “Yes please,” I said after pretending to mull it over for a second.</p>
<p>        I wondered if she knew? Surely anyone with an access to a private jet must get up to this sort of thing at least once. It only stands to horny reason. I watched Karina the chipper flight attendant for any signs, but her face remained a perfect mask of on-the-job mild politeness. As someone who also has to produce a cheerful-yet-competent facade as part of their job I had some professional admiration for Karina and her many sisters.</p>
<p>        The plane lurched just a little and started down the runway, with a quick nod the flight attendant slipped away without stumbling once despite wearing three inch heels. I looked out the window to see the beautiful autumn twilight sky, as the plane sped up and took off I could see the lights of London below us, bright and shimmering as dawn was breaking.</p>
<p>
  <em>        I’ll never go on vacation to London now</em>
</p>
<p>        I thought to myself.</p>
<p>        To revisit this city as a simple tourist, trodding along with a backpack and camera, taking Instagram photos of red mailboxes and telephone booths and men in beefeater hats would ruin this city forever. I wanted it to stay in my mind like this forever, a beautiful backdrop to a breathtaking, surreal experience, a million lights interrupted by a serpentine dark line of the Thames river.</p>
<p>
  <em>        I fell in love in this city.</em>
</p>
<p>        No, that’s a lie.</p>
<p>
  <em>        I realized I was in love in this city.</em>
</p>
<p>        I leaned back against the leather cushions of my seat and took deep breaths to steady myself. There it was. I knew it all along, but there was something terrible in actually admitting it, even to yourself. When you acknowledge something, suddenly it real, suddenly it’s there and you have to deal with it.</p>
<p>        Suddenly, I wanted to cry.</p>
<p>        What have I done? What will I do after this? How will I keep working with him? How do I just pick up where I left off and resume physical therapy? And after my placement is done and he goes back to England, what then? After a weekend like that, how do you just go back to bad Tinder dates with dudes who are thinking of starting a podcast or getting a douchey armband tattoo?</p>
<p>        The plane reached cruising altitude and the city disappeared beneath a veil of dark grey clouds. The chipper flight attendant came in, perfectly balancing two identical tea trays. I poured myself a cup and held the scalding porcelain until the shaking in my hands died down. After I finished my tea I finally had the courage to look back at Loki who was sitting across the aisle from me.</p>
<p>        My seat was again the single leather armchair, but he was sitting across the aisle from me on something similar to a loveseat, which was a little funny now that I thought about it. His messenger bag and coat were piled on next to him. His tea was already done, he was strewn poetically with his head thrown back, his arm was draped across his eyes. His grey shirt was unbuttoned at the top and I could see the long pale column of his throat, the prominent Adam’s apple, the long perfect lines formed by sternal head muscle and the jugular notch. Beyond the shirt I could just see the edge of the binding that still encased his collarbone and right shoulder.</p>
<p>        He was watching me, I knew he was, for I could feel his cold blue-green eyes even if I couldn’t see them now. I turned away and looked out the window again. We were chasing the night. From above the clouds I could see dawn breaking. With a sigh I put the empty teacup back on the table and closed the sash over the window, just as the flight attendant came in to serve us breakfast. This time it was French toast with syrup and fruit and orange juice and more tea. While we were eating in silence she made her way through the cabin and lowered all the remaining sashes. In a soft, diffident murmur she inquired if either of us wanted for her to make up the berth in the back and both of us declined. In reality Loki probably would work through the flight and I did not need a bed of any kind to sleep. In reality a bed would be too dangerous a temptation. If one had a bed one wants to <em>stay</em> in it, reveling in the proprietary bliss of sharing a partner for more than just sex. And this was a luxury neither of us had anymore. The United States were only seven hours and some 3000 miles away and it was all very nearly over.</p>
<p>        Suddenly, I had to force myself to finish the last several bites on my plate, my fingers grew cold once again. Karina the chipper flight attendant cleared away the trays, brought each of us identical sheets, fluffy blankets and downy pillows, then she dimmed the lights in the cabin and retreated to the front of the plane quietly. There was a sound as the partition between the front service area and our cabin closed.</p>
<p>       Did she know? I wondered idly as I got to my feet, I certainly didn’t care and Loki probably cared even less.</p>
<p>       I found myself standing between Loki’s legs once more. Without saying anything I leaned over and put my hands on the edge of the leather seat on either side of his head. Slowly and just as silently Loki’s hands traveled to the bottom line of my skirt and gripped the back of my legs just below the knees. His warm palms made their way up each calf with an aching gentleness, pushing the skirt higher and higher. Our eyes were locked, when he got to mid thigh I leaned forward and planted my knees on either side of him on the couch, straddling him. My hands landed on his shoulders, then my arms wound around him in a close embrace and his hands tightly circled my waist and it was only when were so entwined, so maximally close to each other that our lips finally touched.</p>
<p>       Every time I was with Loki, it was different. The first coupling was frenzied - a primal release of long suppressed attraction. The second was slow and languid and careful, the one the morning after was spontaneous and lustful, the fuck in the kitchen was a hard, punishing, indulgent fantasy in which roles were easily assumed and easily discarded.</p>
<p>       All were good.</p>
<p>       All were fulfilling.</p>
<p>       But what we did on that plane, 10 000 feet in the air, while it was my fantasy and there was an element of role-play in it, was something else entirely. It was tender and it was beautiful and there was sadness to it because we both knew it would be the last one.</p>
<p>       I did something then that I had wanted to do for months and months. My lips traveled all over, kissing Loki in all the places I had come to know. The corners of his eyes, his right temple, the prominent edges of his cheekbones and then lower to his ear and below where the jawline started. Holding me in place with one hand he leaned forward to get rid of his suit jacket and I helped him with that, my fingers pushing the material back and away and reveling in the feel of him under my fingers. The palm of is hand slipped along my back, along the smooth silk of the blouse and stopped where the strap of a bra should have been. As the suit jacket tumbled softly onto the floor, I smiled at him knowingly between kisses. He leaned back and pulled me onto him, my mouth all but worshiping the pale column of his long neck as I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and he with mine. Mine were snaps and so he had an easier time of it. When the silk of the blouse fluttered to the floor my skin broke out in goosebumps, Loki's other hand had made it to the apex of my thighs, he gripped my ass under the material of the skirt and a low kind of growl left him when he realized I wasn’t wearing panties either. When his fingers began to gently caress me, just as his mouth took my earlobe and began teasing it, I decided that this was 100% worth the cold skip along the tarmac. I leaned into him, into the sensation, making embarrassing tiny mewling sounds and was gratified to see this was not one of those times when Loki was in a sexually teasing mood. What I wanted he gave me and as I ground against him my fingers found their way into his hair and scratched playfully at the nape of his neck. He growled in reply and I laughed softly as I kissed the side of his mouth, remembering the first time that happened.</p>
<p>        “You drove me crazy then,” he whispered to me between kisses. “But even when I hated you, I wanted you. I wanted you so much and from the start. I should have known ... differently ... I should have done it differently ... I should have known.”</p>
<p>        There was no time to process that, his fingers slipped into me and my hips jerked and ground against his hand. I writhed on top of him as his fingers, long and insidious and profane, curved and twisted and brought me to orgasm, when the first wave hit I threw my head back but instead of a scream, a soft raspy moan crawled out of my lungs. Afterwards I lifted his hand to my mouth and sucked his fingers clean never breaking eye contact as my legs slid down to the cabin floor. I kissed and ran my tongue along his chest, I nipped at points where the binding ended and the pale smooth skin began and he let me do as I wanted, always staring at me with those blue-green fathomless eyes. My fingers undid the buckle of his belt and I fumbled with his clothing a little, until I was able to take him into my mouth. I lavished him with slow, careful attention, when a few tendrils of hair fell in front of my face Loki carefully brushed them back but other than that he never gave me any direction, he barely even touched me. His head was thrown back but he was watching me through heavy lidded eyes.</p>
<p>        When the leather started to creak under the force of his fingers and his breathing started to hitch I stopped my caresses and climbed back up to straddle him once more. Rather than ease myself into position I all but fell on him, the sudden ache of being so filled so fast being it's own reward in my addled brain. I rode him and I kissed him, deeply, thoroughly and with barely any grace or finesse. The pain of all the previous times we've been together was there and yet it made it better. I must have been going mad. The only things left on me were the heels and the grey skirt, bunched up at the waist. Loki must have gone mad as well. As our pace quickened he clutched the grey material and used it to bring me closer, to hold me, to impale me. My pleasure climbed quickly and I came suddenly, only barely remembering not to clutch his shoulders in a fit of passion. I stilled for a moment to catch my breath as everything clenched and in that moment Loki, while still in me, tipped me onto the couch. The sudden change in position sent me reeling again as I landed on my back. I heard his bag and his coat and his things tumble to the floor and he towered over me, disheveled and still partially clothed. He pushed me back until my head rolled over the armrest and I felt his mouth on my breasts as he kept fucking me. It was bone-shatteringly good, I wanted to scream that to the heavens but since I couldn't, I plunged my fingers in Loki's hair and when I pulled all he did was laugh. </p>
<p>        "Harder, dearest," his whisper was sin itself.</p>
<p>        I gave him a hard pull again and in return his hips shot forward and he plunged deep into me, making me gasp and groan. My hands clutched at his hair in response and after that he didn’t give me a change to come down from the euphoric high, instead he upped the pace and fucked me over and over and over again sending jolts of sharp, warm, mounting bliss up my spine and throughout my body. My legs clung to his waist as I let the feeling overtake me and drown me. I writhed, desperate to join as much of my body with his, I whispered sweet, passionate nonsense to him and clawed at his back and pulled at his hair until finally he groaned and I felt him come.</p>
<p>        “Please, please,” I begged him then. “Please don’t stop, oh God I’m so, so close!”</p>
<p>        He obliged me and kept going, one of his hands found my clit and he worked it until I came one final time before collapsing on top of me. For a few moments we stayed like that, trying to catch our breath. Loki shifted a little to the side so as not to crush me and his head was resting on my shoulder. There was not a lot of room on that loveseat and both Loki and I were above average height. I suspect neither of us were particularly comfortable but we didn’t move either. My hand kept playing with Loki’s silky black locks, his fingers drew absentminded ticklish circles on my ribs. When our bodies had cooled down and I started to shiver a little under the AC vents Loki reached for the blanket folded neatly on the next chair over.</p>
<p>        “We can’t,” I groaned, unable to keep regret from my voice. “If we stay like this, not only will we get discovered but we’ll both throw our backs out.”</p>
<p>        Loki sighed, then grunted in assent, straightened out and disentangled himself from me. I gasped as his body and his warmth left me. He passed me the blanket, then got to his feet to straighten out his clothes. It would take me longer to sort myself out and I would probably have to find my luggage to change. Bundled up, I got to my feet, which were still wobbly.</p>
<p>
  <em>        If the plane so much as hits a little turbulence between now and when I can take these pumps off, I will absolutely break an ankle.</em>
</p>
<p>        I tried to joke with myself.</p>
<p>        “You have tears in your eyes” Loki's voice cut through my addled thoughts like a knife. Our eyes met but hurriedly I looked away.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Damn.</em>
</p>
<p>        I needed to get a move on and I needed to get my emotions under control, so I rolled my eyes in self-defense and replied, “You’re just that good at the sex, but of course you knew that already. I’d throw you a parade but it takes forever to get confetti out of the carpet.”</p>
<p>        Loki smiled a little sadly at that and watched as I wobbled away debauched and wrapped in a fluffy blanket with as much dignity and grace as I could muster.</p>
<p>        Which, considering my mental and physical state was none at all.</p>
<p>
  <em>        Damn. Damn. Damn.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is the last horny chapter for a while, now we enter the feels phase of the fic. </p>
<p>Thoughts and prayers.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Back to Work.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        The skirt bore the brunt of our copulation and was stained and wrinked to the point that it could not be worn in it’s current state in polite society.  </p><p>        I found my suitcase at the back of the plane and rummaged there to find my last clean pair of boyshorts and my sports bra. I also found my jeans and the comfortable flat sole boots I preferred to travel in. The silk shirt could hardly go with any of this get up and anyway it was still crumbled at Loki’s feet so I found a decently clean t-shirt instead. Thankfully, I could now wear my hoodie and avoid another cold runway jaunt in New York. I changed in the bathroom, washed up as best I could and scrubbed my face free of the make-up. I brushed out my hair, disposed of the pointy pins and braided it simply again.</p><p>        When Loki heard me emerge from the bathroom and walk to the front of the cabin he got to his feet and turned. He had my blouse in his hands and looked as if he was ready to say something, but when his eyes fell on me the words never made it out and he only silently passed my clothes to me.</p><p>        There was a significant pause - neither of us knew what to say. Then I took a deep breath, stepped towards him and slipped the blouse from his hands. The silk coiled around his long fingers for a second and I envied it with all my heart. Instead I pushed all that away and rising to my tip-toes I gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and took a step back.</p><p>        “I did some thinking, and found your arguments very persuasive,” I said in what I hoped was a slightly playful tone. “I think I will reconsider leaving this position after all.”</p><p>        “My brother will be happy to hear it,” said Loki dryly and then added in a more neutral tone. “Perhaps this is as good a time as any to get some rest, there are still five hours of flight left and you have not slept very much in the last few days.”</p><p>        I didn’t know what to say to that so I just nodded, went back to my seat, curled up, pulled the blanket over myself and turned to face the wall. It took me longer than usual to go to sleep. I doubt Loki slept at all. He mentioned before he struggled with it during travel and I didn’t hear him prepare for bed, but neither did he take out his laptop and work. Eventually I nodded off to the low hum of the engine and was awoken four hours later by the strong smell of coffee. Chipper Karina was carrying a circular tray full of rolls  and the window sashes were up once again to reveal the bright morning light.</p><p>       “How long until we arrive?” I mumbled as I stretched and winced - my back was stiff and my thighs were aching.</p><p>       “Approximately 45 minutes,” she answered with a radiant smile as she passed the coffee cup to me. “Would you like anything else?”</p><p>        When I replied negatively she collected the pillows and blankets and retreated once again. Loki was not in his seat but he returned from the bathroom soon after. He was a lot more presentable now, his hair was better arranged and he had his jacket on again, but he looked more tired. I wondered if he got any rest at all. </p><p>         I could barely look at him and to keep from making a fool of myself I got my phone out and played 2048 until I felt the plane begin its decent. I watched as it came down through the clouds and the bright, clear sky and blinding morning sunlight were replaced with a dour gray rain. As we approached the airport I saw that during our two day absence the trees have shed most of their autumn foliage. Below us the small straits and pools were overflowing with water and the roads were inundated and plastered with wet leaves.</p><p>         After landing Loki and I made our way to the small airport building so he could speak to someone about the arrangements for the jet’s last minute trip to Nepal. Rather than hanging round I located the hired car that was waiting for us and helped the chauffeur load our luggage. As we idled by the entryway I watched the planes take off and land along the nearby airstrip amidst the quiet falling rain.</p><p>        “How long has the weather been like that?” I asked the driver.</p><p>        “Oh it’ been rainin' for two days straight," the man's accent was West Indian with a stop-over in Brooklyn. "Was a real big thunderstorm las' night - flooded some places. Tapering off now, but they say the temperature'll drop below freezing tonight.”</p><p>         I nodded just as the door opened and Loki slipped into the back seat beside me. I saw him grimace and grip his walking stick, his injuries were giving him trouble again. Between the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements on the plane and all the vigorous physical activity of the last 24 hours, he probably strained something. Our last tryst was probably the worst for him, in all other cases his injury was spared at least some of the time. </p><p>
  <em>        That's on you, sister. The plane thing was 100% your idea.</em>
</p><p>        Said my guilty conscience.</p><p>        We passed the entire drive in silence and when we got to the house I entered the passcode to get us through the gate. The driver carried our bags to the door and left. Loki and I stood on the wide porch for a few moments, shielded by the long wooden awning, before I turned to him and asked.</p><p>        “So we just go back to what it was?”</p><p>        “I can, if you can,” he said calmly. “As I said to you before, I do not believe becoming more intimate with me would make you a poor caregiver.”</p><p>        “You'll behave then?”</p><p>         Loki’s face remained impassive for a moment and then broke into a slow, mischievous smile.</p><p>        “Darling, it would look most suspicious to all who know me if I did <em>that</em>.”</p><p>        “Point acknowledged,” I said with a roll of the eyes and moved to unlock the door and quell the security alarms.</p><p>        As we entered the house I found it easier to slip into my old role. Despite the remnants of the post-coital ache, everything that transpired between Loki and myself seemed surreal. Could it really be that I went to London for three days? That I stayed in a luxurious apartment? Wore ten grand worth of clothes to a posh gala and then hooked up with a divinely beautiful British rake?</p><p>        Nonsense. Utter raving lunacy.</p><p>        Here in Thor and Val's house I was myself again and my job responsibilities occupied my mind totally and completely. Everything else was pushed way, way to the back of my mind. I will deal with all of that later.</p><p>        “Take this time to get some rest,” I said to Loki. “Particularly if you didn’t sleep much on the plane. We won’t bother with a lot of the more intense rehab stuff today and you are limping slightly so we need to figure out what to do about that. When Mary comes back she’ll want to take a look at you too.”</p><p>        “Need to work,” said Loki coldly. “I did not do nearly as much work as I should have in the last few days.”</p><p>         I knew what he was getting at, but didn’t bite.</p><p>        “I won’t turn on the Wi-Fi then,” I shot back instead. </p><p>        “Do not much care,” he shrugged with a slight smile, “I got everything backed up.”</p><p>        “Don’t tempt me, I know how to turn off the electricity too and I know your laptop is probably not running on full battery.”</p><p>        “Alas, at this point, not for a moment do I doubt you on your word,” he replied sourly and stalked off towards to Hospital Wing.</p><p>        After depositing my stuff in my room and changing into some more warmer clothes I walked around the whole house to make sure everything was in order. Then I quickly checked on the grounds although I didn’t stray very far, it was cold and windy and I came back into the house shivering. A hot bath and some tea or maybe mac-and-cheese would do me a lot of good but instead I made sure the water was running and set the pool to be filled in again. I checked on the security system, turned up the heat on the thermostat and only then went to see how Loki was doing.</p><p>        Loki was asleep.</p><p>        His tall form was splayed out on the couch in the living room. He had changed into flannel pajama pants and his usual wide, white t-shirt. The laptop was still on and was whirring softly on the coffee table, I closed it carefully, got Loki to lie down comfortably and put a blanket over him. Just looking at him made me sleepy as well. I turned on the gas fireplace and retreated as quietly as possible.</p><p>        Mary arrived midday, just as I was taking stock of my options in the kitchen. Once she found out Loki was catching up on sleep she stuck around with me so as not to disturb him and we had tea while I filled her in on some of the more recent developments. She was distressed to learn that Thor had taken ill, but relieved he and his wife were coming home so soon.</p><p>        “Truth be told,” she said while sipping weak tea, “I’ve been thinking about ending my placement early. The patient hardly needs a live in nurse at this point, I’ve been feeling redundant for close to a month. Of course, you needed a second person here for other reasons but once Mr. Odinson and his wife come back …” she trailed off and sipped again. </p><p>        “How long was your placement originally for?” I asked.</p><p>        “Right up to Christmas,” she replied. “Mind you, when I first came here he was quite bad and needed round the clock care. We didn’t know what the rate of his recovery would be then and at first it didn't look good. But he is much better now, he still needs your help, but not so much mine.”</p><p>
  <em>        Does he though?</em>
</p><p>        “Something to talk to Mr. Odinson about when he gets here,” I said instead. “It may not be his top priority right away, but I’m certain he’ll want to talk to both of us about his brother's condition when everything else is settled.”</p><p>        “Ah, is that where you both got to?” Loki’s voice from far down the hall made us both jump. “Having tea and no one invited me, as a Brit I am mildly offended!”</p><p>        “It’s discount bags of Tetley tea,” I replied, turning around on the kitchen stool. “Your delicate constitution would never recover from it.”</p><p>        Loki, still in his pajamas but looking much more rested, smiled a little at me then greeted Mary politely. After some preliminaries Mary jumped right into nurse mode and hauled him away for checkups. I cleaned up the kitchen and went to get the mail one last time. After making sure everything in Thor’s office was sorted out I tidied and prepped the gym and went to get Loki who was in a sour mood, probably because he had is first healthy lunch in three days. I needled him about it a little as we did a condensed version of the workout routine. Tired and bruised though he was, this time the exertion did not produce any swelling but he was feeling some pain and so we cut the session a little short. Loki also no longer needed help in the shower, so I left him to it and helped Mary in the kitchen. When he was done I gave him a massage and left him to rest, although he still insisted on having his laptop.</p><p>        As I returned to my room all my energy rapidly drained from me and I flopped on my bed face down and heaved a sigh. I was so terribly tired all of a sudden, tired and sad. My eyes itched as if I was about to cry, which was just ridiculous! I sat up on the bed and suddenly glimpsed my still packed suitcase in the corner and next to it the Dior and Burberry bags. My stomach lurched as if someone yanked on it. Was I really about to cry over this? What is wrong with me?! I scrambled out of bed and shoved the flat, wide boxes under my bed. Then I opened my suitcase, found the Louboutin shoe box and crammed it there as well.</p><p>        For a long time I stood in the middle of the room trying to get my emotions in order. This was a little weird, but I felt so drained I hardly had time to really process it. Instead I started to unpack the rest of my things, mostly to keep busy. As the majority of my things needed to be washed I sorted them for laundry as I went along. I could probably get at least one wash done tonight. I was very carefully considering the washing instructions on a pair of Michi leggings when my cellphone rang.</p><p>        It was not one of my contacts, but the number looked familiar, I picked up.</p><p>        “So, what are you wearing?” Loki’s soft purr rolled over me and made me shudder.</p><p>        “You utter bag of dicks,” I growled back, “you promised!”</p><p>        “Language darling,” he chuckled, “I am only joking.”</p><p>        “I bet. What do you want?”</p><p>        “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps I am only bored.”</p><p>        I flopped backwards on the bed, sighed and said, “Look, your brother is coming back tomorrow, take a day off and recharge and then tomorrow you can start tormenting him instead.”</p><p>       “Nonsense darling, I do not focus my efforts in such a way. I distribute my antics evenly, so that everyone is equally tormented!” he sounded absolutely gleeful. </p><p>       “Yea, you’re a real Marxist that way,” I griped. “I thought you were going to work all evening. Clearly I should have made you swim ten laps.”</p><p>       “I can work and annoy you simultaneously, I am very good at multitasking”</p><p>       And sure enough, I could hear the keys of his laptop click in the background the entire time he was talking. I rolled my eyes.</p><p>       “If only you used your superpowers for good!”</p><p>       "Evil pays better, I assure you, I checked," his tone was lighthearted, conversational even.</p><p>       I was ready to snark something back, but stopped myself. We could spend the whole evening on the phone like this, but it probably was a bad idea.</p><p>       “Loki, I have to go.” I had to squeeze those words out of myself. “I have to finish unpacking, take a shower, order dinner, all sorts of things.”</p><p>       “I see," he paused again and this time I couldn't take it.</p><p>       "Is there something you need?" I asked.</p><p>       "I merely wanted to make sure you are well," he said in that vague way that could be mistaken for hostile except now I knew better.</p><p>       "I'm ... okay. Tired, you know? From all the travel," it was only a half truth but I sold it well.</p><p>        Loki went silent on the other end for a little bit then said, "very well, have a good evening," and hung up. </p><p>        For a long time after the line went dead I stared at the ceiling trying to sort through my emotions. Loki's call nudged something, yes I missed him and yes I was sad over the situation I damn went and put my stupid-ass self into. I turned to lay on my side and glanced at my phone, it was around 7pm, I still had a whole evening to kill by myself and while I could spend it on my phone playing Candy Crush or 2048, suddenly the fact that I will be doing so for the next two months while under the same roof as Loki made me downright deflate. </p><p>        But that still didn't explain the tears.</p><p>        Maybe I was overthinking it, maybe I was tired and a little emotional and maybe Loki only wanted to call and bother me because he was Loki and loved to bother people. </p><p>
  <em>        Or maybe he wanted to check in on you because you had an intense 24 hours and he's wondering if you're having a sub drop. Only the dynamics of the relationship shifted suddenly and now he's on shaky footing so he can't really word it right.</em>
</p><p><em>        And you are, for the record, 100% having a sub drop.</em> </p><p>        I sat up, really for the first time in a long time considering the possibility. I knew about them but I've never had one before, but of course I've never had sexual experiences as intense as the last few days have been either. The downside to a really good euphoric high is the eventual low. There was something very poetic in that if you were the type to look for such things. </p><p>        If I was having a depressive episode brought on by good, rough, laying of pipe then staying alone and washing clothes most of which are soiled due to the laying of said pipe was probably a very bad idea and will only make it worse. </p><p>        I indulged myself in one last hearty sigh for the evening and dialed the number for Sushi Feast.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sub Drop is a real thing, it can happen after an intense sexual experience, like a BDSM session. The immediate release of endorphins to the brain by pain/pleasure can leave either partner, but especially a sub, drained physically and emotionally fragile 24-48 hours later. This is why aftercare is so important when you're up to such shenanigans.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Returns and Exchanges.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologize for the delay and the short chapter. <br/>I've been sick as a dog. </p>
<p>Also, Happy Halloween!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Of course Mary objected at first, but my argument to her was that we were at an end of a very difficult job and with Thor and Val returning tomorrow it was a good time to celebrate and unwind a little. This was how, at 8pm, Mary, Loki and I were sitting in the living room of the Hospital Wing eating sushi takeout for dinner. As Mary was not the type to eat raw fish, I ordered her lemongrass chicken with rice and vegetables, which she seemed much more receptive to. </p>
<p>        Loki didn’t eat with us of course. He sat at the table and worked, occasionally eating from a plate piled on with food. Mary and I chatted at the island quietly. She told me about her twin grandchildren, about the health and behavior of her cats and the new recipe for pound cake she’s been meaning to try out. She was very sad about missing her grandbabies first Halloween, which was a shame. Mary was probably made a very good grandmother - loving, yet still fairly firm in terms of discipline.</p>
<p>        We talked into the evening but Mary was always very aware of the time and sent Loki to bed at 10pm precisely, which is why she, and not I, is the nurse. Loki and I exchanged glances before he headed off to bed but other than that brief nod and a few words earlier, we really didn’t say much of anything to one another that evening. I couldn’t decide if that made me feel better or worse so I headed to bed. Luckily, by the end of the day I was way too tired to overthink the mess that I had gotten myself into. As soon as my head hit the pillow I dropped off to sleep.</p>
<p>        The next morning I very nearly overslept. It was still raining and the sky was still grey and my room was so dark when I woke up that I was convinced it must be 6am when in fact it was much closer to 8am. I jolted out of bed and rushed to wash up and get dressed. I just managing to meet up with Loki at the gym for 8:30am, when I came in he was still holding his laptop and his face was a little more distant than usual. Without saying anything I simply raised my eyebrows in question.</p>
<p>        “I wanted you to see something,” he said as he put the laptop on a workout bench, opened it and turned the screen towards me.</p>
<p>        It was an article in Evening Mirror Online, a publication I’ve never even heard of, but apparently it’s heard of me.</p>
<p>        "LOKI’S DELECTABLE YANKEE DOODLE"</p>
<p>        Below this frankly appalling title that someone somewhere actually approved to see the light of day, were two photos. The first one was of us leaving the gala. It was snapped as we were waiting for the car, Loki leaning on me slightly. The good news was that you could only see my face in profile and with my hair and make-up being so different I was barely recognizable. The bad news is that the concern on my face as I was looking at Loki was a touch … beyond professional. The second photo was snapped outside his apartment the next day. It was a classic paparazzi shot from across the street of us getting into a car. The good news with that one was that by the grace of some benevolent god, despite the cold, the incompleteness of my wardrobe was not noticeable. I just looked like an idiot for not packing a coat. The bad news was that I was still dressed like Maggie Gyllenhaal in the "Secretary".</p>
<p>        I quickly scanned the article, which was mercifully short and low on any actual information but very high on caustic speculation, then inspected the photographs again. It was hard to tell to what extent my knowledge of the situation was coloring my perception of the photos. Did I really look smitten? Or did I just think I looked smitten because I knew I was smitten? Does it even matter?</p>
<p>        I sighed.</p>
<p>        “It could have been worse,” I took great care not to look and sound like I cared very much. “They didn’t even get my name right. First or last. It seems like he really couldn’t find very much about me so in the end he just used me as a jumping off platform to get to you. Who wrote this?”</p>
<p>        “Some columnist that turns out 20 of these a day,” said Loki dismissively, “they are all interchangeable.”</p>
<p>        I looked at the article again.</p>
<p>        “'<em>Source close to the new couple</em>' is, I assume, Mr. Hungover-Rotten-Shrimp-Smell," I ventured.</p>
<p>        “More than likely," nodded Loki. "Look at the angle of the first shot. It was not taken from the street, it was taken with a camera phone from inside the building lobby. Probably either Priestly or his wife took it.”</p>
<p>         “Well, at least my make-up looks on point in both," I shrugged and closed the laptop. “If this is the worst he can do then, if anything, he’s doing you a favor. You don’t come off as terribly injured and incapable of running a company in this. You just come off as a fuckboy millionaire chasing skirts across the Atlantic. The first will make stocks fluctuate, the second will barely make a dent. Tony Stark used to screw anything that moved for like, ten years, before he settled down and his company never once took a hit for it.”</p>
<p>        "The member of the Board of Directors who sent me this seems to think too. He’s somewhat amused, although now that I was seen on my feet he warned me that the expectation of my hurried return is inevitable.”</p>
<p>        “Best get you in good health then," I said briskly and we got back to work.  </p>
<p>        Thor and Val arrived home just after lunch. There was really no significant change to either of them, the only difference was that Thor looked noticeably tired, with dark circles under his eyes. However, as he came out of the car his face lit up when he saw us waiting for him and he greeted us very warmly. Val looked a little tense and more worried than usual and her eyes darted to her husband now and then, just out of a nervous habit. When Mary offered to give him a check-up Thor started to protest, but she agreed it would be better and he didn’t argue against her. Mary went to fetch her things while we remained in the living room.</p>
<p>        I was curious to see how the two brothers would greet each other after a long and eventful absence. Unsurprisingly, Loki did not fling himself around his brother’s shoulders, nor did he sob with relief, instead he stood at the back of the room leaning on the end table in a highly decorative manner and watched with detached amusement our interactions.</p>
<p>        “Brother!” Thor’s voice boomed when he saw him. “On your feet and you look so well!”</p>
<p>        “Same could be said of you,” Loki pointed out with just a hint of irony. “Have you looked at the document Accounting forwarded for the last quarter?”</p>
<p>        “No,” said Thor, “Val confiscated my computer.”</p>
<p>        “And is that not a miserable experience?” asked Loki with a smile and a glance to his sister-in-law, whom he gave a brief nod of acknowledgment.</p>
<p>        “Terribly so," agreed Thor easily. “We will talk as soon as we’ve settled and Mary finished her check-up. There is much I need to discuss with you.” His gaze then shifted to me again and he smiled in a very warm and somehow knowing way. “And you milady, I owe you a dept of gratitude for more than a job well done it would seem. Green silk suits you exceedingly well.”</p>
<p>        I blushed from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair.</p>
<p>        “Ah,” said Loki behind me casually, “Crackehall sent the news story link to you as well?”</p>
<p>        “He was extremely amused by it,” grinned Thor.</p>
<p>        “As was Thor,” said Val, her voice now slightly more joking than before. “It was the only time I’ve ever seen him do an actual, physical spit-take across the table.” She turned to me and said apologetically, “it appears you were dragged into company politics and family feuds - a terrible thing to be involved in.”</p>
<p>        He eyes looked at me with a straightforward sort of curiosity I could not help but find alarming.</p>
<p>        “It’s not a big deal” I replied, taking care to sound as casual and unperturbed as possible. “It’s really not unusal to accompany patients somewhere if necessary and when the opportunity for a big party presented itself, well, why not? I never had venison before, it’s unlikely I ever will again. If you only ever go to one of these it’s pretty exiting. Any more and it probably gets a little dull.”</p>
<p>        “Oh you're quite right, milady,” agreed Thor with a laugh as Mary returned with her equipment. “Well, I’ll have Mary look me over and I’ll wash up and get a bit of rest, then we can catch up on the last three months.”</p>
<p>        “Loki's hydrotherapy is between 2pm and 5pm,” I said. “I can come to your office after and we can talk.”</p>
<p>        We agreed on that and I let Thor and Val settle back into their rooms in peace. Mary went with them. When their voices disappeared up the stairs I sighed with relief and leaned on the kitchen island. I didn’t realize how tense my shoulders had gotten and rolled them to relax a little.</p>
<p>        “Calm down” said Loki quietly, somehow much closer now than he was during the entire conversation. “They do not know, at most they can only suspect something rather vague. But even if they did know, I do not think it would be in them to care or judge you on it.”</p>
<p>        “Look at you, standing here and not helping,” I snapped without thinking.</p>
<p>        “Ah, well I will be on my way then,” and with a shrug he sauntered off but paused in the hallway and looked back at the last moment. </p>
<p>        Loki's eyes suddenly glinted with a mischievous, sexual hunger. My heart nearly lurched out of my chest at the sight of it and it took me a second to realize why he was looking at me that way - my position over the kitchen island was … not unfamiliar.</p>
<p>        For a full second our we shared a very intimate, very knowing look. A rich, fulfilling, potent memory hung between us and the air was suddenly thick with meaning and with a strange sort of longing. Then I straightened up and looked away, out of my peripheral vision I saw Loki nod to himself, turn back around and depart for his quarters. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Above and Beyond.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         That afternoon, on my way back from the Hospital Wing, I stopped by Thor’s office. He was at his desk, going through the neat piles of mail. The pile addressed to him was almost entirely opened and rifled through. He was looking a little better, having had a shower and a shave, and there was an empty glass and plate on his desk. I tapped lightly on the door frame and he looked up, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.</p>
<p>         “Ah, milady, please come in, sit, how are you?”</p>
<p>         “Pretty good," I shrugged. "How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>         “Oh fine, just tired and feeling like a nuisance," he chuckled in good spirits. "It's a little embarrassing to have been the only one so badly affected!”</p>
<p>         “From what I understand, it does not mean anything,” I said as I settled into the chair across from his desk. “Some people are just badly affected by high elevations, it’s not your fault.”</p>
<p>         “Aye, that’s what everyone at the hospital told me as well, but I am not used to being so laid up a helicopter is required to resolve the issue," said Thor with a comically rueful expression.</p>
<p>         “Oh cool! You got to ride on a helicopter!” I replied with great excitement. “Jealous!”</p>
<p>         Thor threw is head back and laughed</p>
<p>         “Oh milady, you can make light of any situation, can’t you?”</p>
<p>         “It’s my one talent," I agreed. "That and braiding my hair around my head without needing a mirror.”</p>
<p>         “You also, apparently, stand up to people like Morgan Priestly well.”</p>
<p>         “How did you know?”</p>
<p>         “He would not have focused in on you so much if you didn’t insult him. He is supremely vain and narcissistic and takes all slights to heart. A true journalist would see that Loki returning for the gala was the true news of the day and dug into that, but as you must have slighted him along with Loki he decided to drag in your name as well."</p>
<p>         Thor’s hands crumbled an empty brown envelope and chucked it into the recycling bin against the wall. “For our family it was extremely welcome that his attention became so split and as a result no focus came to Loki’s injuries. However, I very much regret that it was at the price of your privacy.”</p>
<p>         “Thor, he didn’t even get my name right,” I shrugged. “And it’s in a British publication few will see on this side of the ocean. And should it become known, so what? Oh no, I wore a really pretty dress and went to some kind of ball with some kind of handsome ass! How will I recover from the shame of it all?!”</p>
<p>         “I was going to ask you how Loki convinced you to come along with him at all.” Thor's eyes, perfectly blue and a little humorous, were terribly disarming because there was something knowing about them.</p>
<p>         “He let me keep the clothes he got for me to look the part,” I shrugged the shrug I practiced in the mirror many times this morning. “But also, I will go just about anywhere for the promise of free food. I’ve sat though church many times just because there is bread and wine at the end.”</p>
<p>         “Loki and you seem to get along very well,” Thor's tone was mild. “I am very glad.”</p>
<p>         It was then and there I came to the conclusion that Thor probably suspects <em>something</em>, but doesn't know <em>what. </em>It could be that having Loki for a brother constantly leaves Thor in an exhausting state of suspicion. If Loki's self-ascribed "ultraviolet" sexual past is not just post coital man-posturing, it's possible Thor doesn't actually want to know. I've never had a sibling, but I can't imagine anyone ever wanting to know too much about their brother's personal life and escapades.</p>
<p>         So I had a window here, to lead the conversation away to something else and I look it.</p>
<p>         “If getting along with him means arguing with him about everything!” I sighed dramatically. </p>
<p>         “Oh absolutely," laughed Thor. "As his brother I can tell you that yes, I’m afraid that’s how it is. Loki is extremely confrontational by nature, verbal sparring excites rather than exhausts him.”</p>
<p>       <em>  Not much exhausts him in general …</em></p>
<p>         I felt the start of a blush coming on.</p>
<p>         Why do the stupidest damn fool thoughts pop into my damn fool head at the worst damn fool possible time?!</p>
<p>         I madly scrambled to reign myself in.</p>
<p>         “Yes, well, his recovery is going reasonably well. His hands are fully functioning once again, although there is still some lack of fine dexterity in the right one. The breaks and fractures have healed, the bruising is all but gone. The two remaining issues are his collarbone and his right leg, particularly from the knee up to the thigh. Any prolonged strain there still causes pain and he still wears a brace and binding ...”</p>
<p>         As I went on and on like that I felt myself calming down, slipping into talking trade was easy and it made me more assured and more comfortable. Thor and I discussed his brother's progress in detail for some time before he leaned back and said:</p>
<p>        “I spoke with Mary after my check-up. She believes Loki no longer requires the round-the-clock services of a nurse.”</p>
<p>        “She mentioned that to me as well,” I replied. “I can see her argument. Frankly, Loki does not need my care either. He can do everything himself, he no longer needs help getting around and he knows the regime and the exercise required of him.”</p>
<p>        “So you wish I leave early as well?” asked Thor and I felt a pang in my chest. </p>
<p>         What I wished for had nothing to do with this. Thor deserved my honest assessment.</p>
<p>        “Let me put it to you this way," I said neutrally. "In the next two months, none of Loki’s current injuries will significantly improve, with or without me. He is now in long-term recovery territory. Once back in London he will need to locate a good physical therapy facility and commit to regular appointments at least for six months. Preferably up to a year. The most I can do from now until Christmas is make sure he is not straining himself, teach him exercises that he can do without a caregiver, make sure he is not hurting himself and on a good path in general. It’s not nothing, but your pay to me is very extravagant as it is and I feel bad taking your money for what is essentially babysitting a grown man.”</p>
<p>        “I see your point,” sighed Thor. “But see this from my point of view, all medical advise I got was against letting Loki fully return to work this year. If both you and Mary leave today Loki will insist on returning to London tomorrow. He will dive into work and push himself too hard. Instead, I was hoping to use the next month or two to give him more rest and a more casual working environment. I wanted to make sure he has a little more strength. I asked Mary to stay on for another three weeks and I am asking you to do the same. That will take us to the end of November, we can re-evaluate the situation then. Would you be all right with that?”</p>
<p>        “I don’t have any objections to that,” I replied.</p>
<p>        “Excellent!" said Thor, relief plain in his voice. “My wife and I also wanted to thank-you for looking after the house in our absence. Mary insists most of this is your doing. You really went above and beyond for us in this difficult time and we are exceedingly grateful.” </p>
<p>         This time I did blush. Thor may have attributed that to false modestly, but mostly I was just willing the ground to swallow me whole. Above and beyond, good grief, if he only knew! He paid me well and trusted me with his home and his secrets and the well-being of his family. And in return, consummate professional that I am, I fucked his brother on their company’s jet while it was flying over the Atlantic.</p>
<p>         Go me. </p>
<p>         In lieu of a reply I smiled weakly at Thor and made my escape. </p>
<p>         From this point onward, although Loki and I kept to the same schedule as before, the entire arrangement seemed different.</p>
<p>        There were now more people in the house for one. Val worked from home often and Thor sporadically did as well. They often had people over for dinner parties or for cocktails. Friends and business colleagues dropped in and sometimes stayed the night. Cleaning staff came in three times a week. Outside of Loki’s workout from 8:30am to 11:30am and his hydrotherapy from 2pm to 5pm we rarely saw each other. Although I was often told I am free to go about the house as I wished I mostly stayed in my room. Although Loki was a member of the family and probably was expressly invited to many of the events the Odinsons held I got the feeling he never joined them either.</p>
<p>         Sitting in my room in the evenings I was often tempted to pick up the phone and call or text Loki, but I never did. He never contacted me either. Our interactions cooled to mildly sarcastic quasi-politeness. He did what I said and griped about it and I snarked back at him casually. Besides the topics related to physical therapy we never again strayed to personal subjects. In fact, after a few weeks it seemed kind of mad that we ever did. Of course we were rarely truly alone. The house was designed with such an open concept that voices easily carried. Thor and Val often took breaks from work to exercise in the gym and even when they were not at home, on a purely psychological level both Loki and I were unspokenly aware of their presence.</p>
<p>        However now and then, in the pool, which was more closed off by the virtue of it’s design, Loki’s hand would sometimes linger on my wrist or my waist or mine sometimes stayed for a few second too long on his shoulders. Tiny things, completely insignificant if not for a slight knowing air they produced.</p>
<p>        You can’t have the kind of intimacy we shared and forget it like it never happened. Our biggest mistake was not even having sex, it was spilling our secrets to each other until for, for one mad moment, it felt like he knew all of me and I knew all of him.</p>
<p>        There’s no coming back from that.</p>
<p>        I still loved him.</p>
<p>        It would be stupid to deny it.     </p>
<p>        I don’t know what he felt about me. Val once said that Loki is not capable of loving anyone but his brother and in a way I saw her point. Loki always seemed so remote and so distant that no one could ever be sure of anything with him. And in his current state, with the kind of year he’s had, with the losses he felt and the trauma he experienced, could it really be said he was ready to feel anything?</p>
<p>        The fall was turning out quite rainy. </p>
<p>        After our return from the UK one overcast day followed another and the sky rarely fully cleared for two weeks straight. Rains continued and there were even reports of flooding in parts of the state. The gloomy weather did nothing to alleviate my mood, I missed my walks around the perimeter of the property, but the ground was far too wet and even Val stopped running outside.</p>
<p>        Finally, on the third week since our return, the sun deigned to show itself and illuminate the grounds. For a few days it was still occasionally overcast but on Friday the temperature rose slightly, the wind died down revealing a clear blue sky. When I pulled back my blinds that morning and saw the beautiful late autumn landscape before me I laughed with relief. It was such a relief to see the sun.</p>
<p>        Loki and I did the morning gym workout in a house much more filled with people than usual. Val and Thor were going to have a big dinner party that night and a catering company was hired to make all the meals. Val worked from home and Thor promised to leave work early.</p>
<p>        I ate my lunch quickly, to get out of the way of the kitchen staff, and went up to my room to relax and read a little. When 2pm started to approach I got out of bed and took out my swim clothing, I was just considering re-doing my hair, as it looked a little disheveled, when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the screen but it was a completely unfamiliar New York number so I let it go to voicemail. Only a few minutes later the phone rang again.</p>
<p>        Same unknown New York number.</p>
<p>        Once again I didn’t pick up.</p>
<p>        When the phone rang the third time, well and truly annoyed, I pick up the call.</p>
<p>        “Hello?”</p>
<p>        “Hello, my princess.”</p>
<p>        My skin crawled. An unconscious reaction of dislike bordering on revulsion.</p>
<p>         <em>Oh Hell.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Publish and be damned.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        In retrospect, I should have known that Paul Hallstatt and I were never going to get along precisely because he insisted on giving me the “Princess” moniker. It was so like Paul to realize a term of endearment would be beneficial to the façade of a caring step-father, but completely miss the mark and pick one that would only irritate a 12-year-old pre-teen just on the cusp of rebellion against the Disney Princess brand.</p>
<p>       “How did you get my number?” I demanded without the slightest desire to remain polite.</p>
<p>       “Oh, Mrs. Folsom still had you in her list of phone numbers, bless her.”</p>
<p>       I ground my teeth.</p>
<p>       Geraldine Folsom was once our elderly neighbor, back when mom and Paul and I were still trying to make the best of things while living on top of one another in an old, cramped apartment in the Bronx. While I was just studying PT she was one of my first charges - I helped her recover from hip surgery. I gave her my number without thinking years ago. Since then I hopped a dozen phones and numerous providers, but I always retained the number.</p>
<p>       “What do you want?” I asked with a sigh.</p>
<p>       “That’s not very nice, don’t you want to know how I’ve been these last few years?”</p>
<p>       “Not particularly, no,” I said, taking care to sound maximally bored. “Get to the point please. I’m working at the moment.”</p>
<p>       “Oh, I <em>saw,</em>” gushed the voice on the other end of the line. “This woman I’m seeing, she reads all the British newspapers and who should I see in one of them but my princess? Gemma tells me that the newspaper that ran that story is <em>very</em> interested in collecting information. And I noticed that they didn’t even get your name right and didn’t know anything about you! I was thinking of calling them up and telling them all about you but then I thought maybe I should talk to you first.”</p>
<p>       A red hot bolt of anger spiked through me and my hand shook from gripping the phone too hard.</p>
<p>       <em>Of all the stupid, lazy, moronic shit he’s ever pulled …</em></p>
<p>       “Paul,” I said, desperately trying to keep my fury at bay. “It’s so like you to talk and talk and not really arrive at the point of anything. You have exactly thirty seconds before I hang up and completely turn off my phone.”</p>
<p>       “You, or your sugar daddy, will pay me $10 000 by the end of the year or I will call every tabloid in the UK and US and sell every scrap of personal information about you. Understand?” his voice was harsh now and mad.</p>
<p><em>       God but he's dumb. You don't go into blackmail mad. You don't go into </em>anything <em>mad.<br/></em></p>
<p>       “Perfectly," I replied.</p>
<p>       “I will now give you my bank information.”</p>
<p>
  <em>       Sure, cause 10K transferred to a probably overdrawn account won't raise aaaaaany questions! <br/></em>
</p>
<p>       “Don’t bother you brainless jack-off!” I snapped at him. All the anger in me, not just at him but at everything in my life for the past several months, finally reached it’s peak then and overflowed. </p>
<p>       “Now you listen to me," I hissed, refusing him the dignity of a raised voice. "You are absolutely free to contact whoever you want, with whatever information you may have. Just know that when anyone reaches me for comment, I will absolutely reply in kind and I have way, way, <em>way</em> more information on you. Only one of us consistently lives inches away from being arrested on felony changes. Should I tell the newspapers about how you claimed disability for years and years while working for a farm for under the table cash? Should I tell them about how you sold sketchy stolen goods from the trunk of your sketchy stolen car? Should I tell them that as late as two years ago you were under investigation for credit card fraud? That's ongoing, isn't it? What about the closet full of cigarettes we had in our apartment that one time? Some of those you sold to minors, should I mention that?”</p>
<p>       There was a very pregnant pause on the other end of the line.</p>
<p>       “So this is how it’s going to work,” I said, marveling at the calmness of my voice. “You will never call me or my mother for anything for the rest of your shitty, miserable life ever again. If you do, I will snitch on you and your many and varied creative ways of claiming your earnings to the IRS and let them deal with you. Then I'll call the cops. <em>Then</em> the feds. Hell, I'll find a way to sick the Coast Guard on you! I know some high up people and trust me, I can do it. So if you want to call some foreign piece-of-shit paper and tell them my name and age and shoe size or whatever, go ahead. Unlike you, I’ve not done nothing but illegal shit for the last twenty years of my life! Now do me a kindness and fuck off!”</p>
<p>       I hung up, desperately wishing for the days of the old thirty-kilo rotary phones you could slam with great force and emphasis and satisfaction. Pressing the little red touchscreen button did little to alleviate the immense anger that still surged though me. I was near apoplectic with rage.</p>
<p> <em>      The nerve of that piece of human garbage! The sheer stupidity! The gall! The smug sense of superiority!</em></p>
<p>       I realized I was pacing the room, or rather darting from one corner to the other like a caged tiger. I had to force myself to sit down and take a breath. Why was I so angry?</p>
<p>       Paul always pulled skeevy, sketchy shit like this. And he always pulled us into it or made us unwitting participants by proximity alone. He spent all the years between their separation and divorce trying to siphon money out of mom. His many angry lenders regularly hounded us for years. He had no scruples and no brains. This is exactly the kind of stunt that would be right up his alley. I thought I long since lost my ability to be surprised by his shit, but there I was sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking.</p>
<p>        Anger, I was shaking with anger.</p>
<p>        Not because of <em>what</em> Paul did but because of what Paul <em>did.</em></p>
<p>        He once again butted into my life uninvited, inserted himself into a happy memory that was all my own.  A memory I wanted preserved. A memory I wanted to carry in my heart forever. A memory that made me happy. The bastard tainted it, made it seedy, made it cheap, made it rotten.</p>
<p>        My eyes randomly drifted to the clock on the dresser.</p>
<p>        Bastard made me late.</p>
<p>        <em>Fuck!</em></p>
<p>        I jumped to my feet and frantically started to change into my swimsuit. After I pulled all the clothes on I rushed out the door, but it was already 2:10pm. Having nearly knocked over some poor caterer I finally made it to the glass encased pool and found Loki, in his swim shorts and an oversized t-shirt, sitting at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. When he saw me he merely raised his eyebrows but I didn't offer an explanation. I could feel his blue-green eyes on me as I shed my clothes and entered hurriedly into the pool, gasping briefly as the cold water bit at my legs.</p>
<p>        As I passed him, I mumbled “Sorry” and hoped that would be the end of it but he reached out and gently took me by the wrist.</p>
<p>        His long fingers were warm. </p>
<p>        “Darling, what is it?” he asked quietly and pulled at my hand just a little.</p>
<p>        My feet turned and walked towards him before I even processed the action. His hand remained on my wrist and as I came closer both dipped beneath the surface of the water. With his other he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and let the hand linger at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. I couldn’t look at him, so I stared at a edge of the pool where the water lapped at the blue tile and whispered.</p>
<p>        “It’s nothing.”</p>
<p>        “I suspect it is not," he said simply. “You have never once been late for a session for as long as I have known you. You are disheveled. You are upset.”</p>
<p>        And that was all true, but I was just not ready to talk about it yet.</p>
<p>         I finally looked up, met Loki’s gaze and shook my head just a little. After a pause he nodded just once and let go. Each of us took a step back and that gave me a chance to reorient and pull myself together. As Loki pulled off his partially wet t-shirt I gathered the equipment and we resumed our usual routine.</p>
<p>        Because of the late start and also maybe because I was distracted and my heart was not in it 100%, by the time we finished the first half of the exercises it was already close to 4pm.</p>
<p>        “If we run the second half as usual, we’ll be running late,” I said to Loki as we sat, resting, on the edge of the pool. “Do you want to do that? Or do you want to wrap up early?”</p>
<p>        “Let us end earlier than usual," said Loki after some thought.</p>
<p>        “Very well,” I slipped back into the water. “You used to swim before the accident, right?”</p>
<p>        “Some,” he admitted.</p>
<p>        “Do you intend to pick it up again after you go back to the UK?”</p>
<p>        “Probably, there is a pool in the building."</p>
<p>        “Of course there is, well let me show you a set of stretches to do before starting up swimming,” I said. “You need to return to it gradually, otherwise the strain on the shoulder will cause you more pain and discomfort in the long run. Start with a quarter of what you did before the accident. Add a little more every week and don't neglect warm up.”</p>
<p>        We standing close to each other in the water as I showed him how to stretch, eventually I said,</p>
<p>       “I'm sorry I was late and threw off your schedule. What happened was nothing serious, just my asshole ex-step-father called out of the blue and pissed me off. I didn’t expect it and it caught me off guard.”</p>
<p>       “What did he want?” his tone was calm but the eyes narrowed. </p>
<p>       “Money,” I said mildly, correcting Loki’s posture during a shoulder stretch slightly. “He saw that article and was under the impression he could blackmail me into not leaking personal information about me to the press. I told him to go to Hell.”</p>
<p>        Under my fingertips I felt Loki tense up.</p>
<p>        “Don’t,” I said. “It’s nothing. Paul doesn’t have the brains to do anything successfully, especially something as subtle as blackmail. I shut him down easily, but …”</p>
<p>        I trailed off.</p>
<p>        Loki straightened up and stood inches from me; tall and still and solid as a bulwark. His head tilted slightly to the right and with that simple gesture implored me to go on.</p>
<p>        “He just …”</p>
<p>        A sudden noise made us both jump. The door to the pool area clicked open and the sound of it echoed along the glass walls around us.</p>
<p>        “Loki?” came Thor’s cheerful, booming voice. “Are you in here, brother?”</p>
<p>        Loki’s eyes fluttered closed in exasperation momentarily as he breathed in, heaved a sign of supreme annoyance, then took a step back and said loudly,</p>
<p>        “Yes, you great thundering oaf, where else would I be?”</p>
<p>        Thor appeared at the top of the small set of stairs leading down to the pool. He must have just come from work, as he was still wearing his business casual clothes and a messenger bag was on his shoulder. He looked at me apologetically and said, “I’m terribly sorry milady, I was hoping to speak with my brother before the guests start arriving. Might be have a break?”</p>
<p>        I glanced at the clock and then at Loki.</p>
<p>        “We might as well wrap it up,” I said. “Perhaps tomorrow will go better.”</p>
<p>        Loki nodded and made his way out of the pool, while I stayed behind to tidy up. Thor joined his brother and as he passed him a dry towel he asked,</p>
<p>        “Have you had time to look at the contract the transport company sent over yesterday?”</p>
<p>        “Yes and it is appalling,” replied Loki frankly, there was still a hint of irritation in his tone. “Not only is it not what we agreed upon but the paperwork completely fails to discuss what is to happen in the event of delays at the border, which, if we consider the current political climate, <em>must</em> be included and I specifically told them so.”</p>
<p>        “That’s what I thought,” said Thor grimly. “Sending them e-mails gets me nowhere, I have a video conference with them on Monday, sit in on it with me, would you? I know they will try to run me around with legal jargon.”</p>
<p>        I came out of the water on the other side and quickly dried myself off, got dressed and put the exercise supplies away. During that time Loki got dressed as well and together with Thor we walked out of the pool area, through the gym and towards Thor’s office. The two brothers walked ahead and I walked some ways back, careful not to intrude. As we made our way through the gym Val joined us, having just finished her own workout. She fell into step with me and we talked casually about her plans for the evening.</p>
<p>        “What time is the party supposed to start?” I inquired.</p>
<p>        “People should arrive for 7pm,” replied Val. “Of course, some will always be late. Dinner is at nine, you are welcome to join us.”</p>
<p>        “Oh no,” I said. “Thank-you, but will be in bed by then. I was hoping to take a walk around the grounds today before sunset though. Would that be okay? I used to do it a lot when you guys were away.”</p>
<p>        “Certainly,” said Val. “Which way do you usually go?”</p>
<p>        “Oh, sort of around the perimeter of the property,” I replied. “Down the path from the house, along edge of the forest and then into it, right up to the ravine and following the river until I reach the markers for your neighbor’s property.”</p>
<p>        “Ah yes, I run that way when the weather permits, though it has been quite rainy in the last few weeks so I’ve not been there since we got back. It’s a good three kilometers all the way around.”</p>
<p>        We were in the hallway now and I saw Thor and Loki go into the office, still talking business. They didn’t close the door and as Val and I passed the doorway Val reminded her husband not to work too late before moving on. I used that time to sneak away and get back into my room. I took a quick warm shower to wash off the smell of chlorine, dressed in warmer clothes, pulled on my boots and my fleece hoodie and left the house by the side entrance.</p>
<p>        The bright late autumn sun blinded me for a moment. I blinked until my eyes adjusted and started towards the edge of the forest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Regarding the Chapter title:<br/>In 1824 Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, hero of the Napoleonic War and future Prime Minister of Great Britain was contacted by a publisher who bought the rights to scandalous and lurid memoirs of one of Wellesley's many mistresses, Harriette Wilson. The publisher attempted blackmail and threatened to publish the book unless Wellesley payed him not to. </p>
<p>The Duke famously wrote back just "Publish and Be Damned" as he guessed (correctly) that the revelation that he slept with a famous courtesan would not do any harm to a man who defeated Napoleon. His wife's opinion on the book was not recorded.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Into the Woods.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        The trees have shed all their leaves and looked dark and brittle against the evening sky. There were still some clouds closer to the horizon but the sky above was clear. The sun would be setting soon and throwing long, distorted shadows on the once green grass. I turned to see the sleek chrome and glass house behind me, warmly illuminated and busy.</p><p>        Behind me came a sound - something rustled and I turned to see Loki, dressed in jeans and a warm sweater, leaning on the trunk of an old oak tree. He spooked me so much I very nearly screamed.</p><p>        “Jesus Christ!” I hissed, “You scared the shit out of me! Don’t do that!”</p><p>        “My abject apologies,” he said sounding not at all sorry and in fact suspiciously entertained.</p><p>        “What the hell are you doing here?” I said incredulously.</p><p>        “Avoiding being dragged to this evening’s festivities," Loki shrugged.</p><p>        “How did you dodge Mary and Thor?”</p><p>        “Please,” he smiled in lieu of an actual answer. “May I walk with you?”</p><p>        “You might as well,” I sighed. “We can consider it a continuation of your workout routine.”</p><p>        “Ah yes, heavens forfend we spend time together outside of your duties.”</p><p>        Beneath the usual acidity in Loki’s tone was hint of genuine bitterness - I stopped and stared. He looked back and on seeing my expression shrugged with one shoulder and said, "pay no attention, now, before my idiot brother interrupted us you were talking about your stepfather?”</p><p>        “I'd rather not come back to that, if you don’t mind,” I said as I fell in step with him. “It would just upset me all over again. His wording suggested a … transactional relationship between us and I resented the implication.”</p><p>        “Ah,” was all that Loki replied and for a while we walked in silence. Eventually, when the path turned and the house was no longer visible, he said, “my brother mentioned your placement here is about to be reconsidered.”</p><p>        “Yes, mine and Mary’s,” I replied. “Probably sometime on Monday. Mary will probably leave soon, you don’t really need a nurse anymore and she’s itching to get back to her family and her grandchildren.”</p><p>        “And you?”</p><p>        Ah, but would that I could stop understanding him so well, would that I could block out the uncertainly beneath his casual, near-bored tone!</p><p>        “You don’t really need a PT either,” I tried to sound reasonable. “Another three weeks will not make a big difference in your recovery. There is really no reason for me to stay.”</p><p>        We fell into silence again and this time it was oppressive.</p><p>        “Cheer up," I said jokingly. "True, you’ll have to spend the Christmas here, but afterwards you’ll be back in England before you know it!”</p><p>        “What will you do?” Loki asked.</p><p>        “It’s unlikely I'll get another assignment between now and the new year,” I said as I hopped over a big muddy puddle that stretched across the path. “I'll have to check in with the company but afterwards I might go away and see my mom. Savannah is nice in winter; it hardly ever drops below freezing there, which I guess is a bit strange for someone like you.”</p><p>        “London hardly ever has much of a winter,” said Loki. “I’ve only ever seen one or two white Christmases.”</p><p>        “Really?" I grinned. "What about carolers under gas lamps? Or adorable street urchins eating large turkeys? Does that still happen?”</p><p>        “Tiny Tim was not a street urchin,” pointed out Loki. “He was well loved by his family who were merely poor, but not destitute.”</p><p>        “Ah, sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve seen <em>A Muppet Christmas Carol,</em>” I said and when Loki didn’t reply I added, “it’s this movie, based on the Dickens novel but with …"</p><p>        “I know what <em>A Muppet Christmas Carol</em> is!” Said Loki with an eye roll, “I am merely British, not functionally dead!”</p><p>        “Sorry,” I giggled.</p><p>        We came up to the edge of the now substantially sodden and unhappy looking lawn, from there the path lead into the forest. I looked up, the sun was only about a half hour from setting and in the forest it was growing darker much more quickly but the path was clearly set and it was not a long walk. Only a few minutes to the ravine and fifteen or so along it until you come out the other end to a clearing. Together Loki and I entered the forest, stepping carefully in the diminishing light. Just as my eyes began to adjust Loki said quietly behind me.</p><p>        “What if I asked you to stay? Would you stay?”</p><p>        My heart plummeted somewhere deep down towards my navel and then shot up to my throat like a yoyo. I stopped and turned. Loki’s face was hard to see, let alone read, but his beautiful blue-green eyes shone brightly and matched the color of the twilight sky beyond him, just visible through the mesh of dark branches.</p><p>        “Why?” I asked stupidly.</p><p>        “You know why,” he replied, his voice quiet.</p><p>        “No, I don’t,” I said frankly. “Medically, you no longer require my help and as for everything else, what difference would three weeks make?”</p><p>        We stared at each other for a long moment, then I turned and kept walking. Behind my own squelching, muddy footsteps I heard Loki’s, otherwise it was quiet in the forest but somewhere in the distance you could hear the sound of running water. As we walked the sound got closer and closer until we reached a point where the earth abruptly fell away to make way for a rushing stream thirty or forty feet below. I stepped on a large, wet fallen log and peered down the ravine.</p><p>        “All that rain really raised the water level here,” I said while watching the muddy water rush past us from the top of the hill</p><p>        “Be careful darling,” Loki’s voice was cautious and I don’t what it was about that statement made me so upset, but as I hopped back down and stood before him, I said:</p><p>        “Don’t call me that,” and it came out more frustrated. “You know you shouldn’t!”</p><p>        “I never do when someone could overhear,” replied Loki defensively.</p><p>        “That’s not my point,” I sighed. “You shouldn’t be calling me that at all. Loki, you’re making this harder than it already is! This is exactly why I think me leaving sooner rather than later is a better idea.”</p><p>        “Ah yes, parting now versus three weeks from now will entirely soothe matters!” he said with considerable irony.</p><p>        “We can’t prolong this indefinitely, the longer I stay, the more awkward and painful the eventual parting will be. Besides, Thor and Val are not stupid, they will eventually figure out something happened between us.”</p><p>        “I keep telling you, they will not care," said Loki stubbornly. "We are adults, our decisions are our own, if Thor what the type to presume to care or judge who I sleep with, we would not have the type of familial relationship which infuriatingly permits him now to watch over me like an annoying mother hen."</p><p>        “And <em>I</em> keep telling <em>you</em>, it’s not about them at all, it’s about <em>me</em>. I was hired to do a job for them, I’m in their house in a professional capacity. I respect them, I don’t want them to know how much <em>I</em> messed up and I don’t want them to start thinking this is whole thing is more serious than it really is.”</p><p>        It only occurred to me after that last statement left my mouth that it came out a little cruel. However, before I could stammer something else to mitigate it Loki simply asked, “Do you regret what we did?”</p><p>        “No,” I said immediately and it was the truth which hovered over us for a moment - heavy and a little awkward.</p><p>        “But you are ashamed of it?” he asked now, quieter.</p><p>        “Loki," I said pleading, "no matter how we chose to look at it then, ultimately, I behaved unprofessionally and unethically, don't you see?”</p><p>        “You quit, remember?”</p><p>        “Oh come on,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re a lawyer, you know that’s a technicality! I can use it to defend myself from others, I can't used it to defend myself against me.”</p><p>        “You and your own self flagellating mind!” He threw his hands up in sheer frustration, an act I've never seen him do. Once it may have given me joy to know I can truly get under his skin but now it just made things worse.</p><p>        “Don’t judge me and my mind!” I snapped at him. “If you profess to like me any, that's what you get! My anxiety-ridden piece-of-shit mind, awful piece-of-shit ex-step-dad who won't leave me alone, an apartment with piece-of-shit plumbing, that's all me! Just as much as the perky tits! And if you don't like any of it, then why do you care so much when I leave? It’s not like we're still hooking up!”</p><p>        Even in the gathering darkness of the woods I could feel his gaze on me.</p><p>        “I ... don’t what you to go,” he said, an admission that surely cost him something. “I do not believe you wish to leave either, - we are ... attracted to each other still.”</p><p>        “Attraction passes Loki, trust me," I replied more bitterly then I meant to.</p><p>        “The kind that we have, not so easily, I think.”</p><p>        “Please don’t,” I said as I turned away. “Don’t start sentimentalizing. We're both lonely, busy people. Our sense of humor, worldview and taste in sex matched well enough that we had a good time for a few days. Then we called it quits. Nothing more.”</p><p>        His hand landed gently on my shoulder.</p><p>        “There is more, you know there is," his voice was a rasp of soft silk in the dark. "Why else would you be so upset at your step-father’s intimations if not for the fact that our relationship was <em>not</em> in fact merely transactional? Were is the harm in admitting we truly fell for each other?”</p><p>        “Because we didn’t!” I intended to say it merely firmly but it came out as an embarrassing, borderline hysterical, half-shout, “because we couldn't have!”</p><p>        I turned to face him, hoping and praying that he could not see the tears in my eyes.</p><p>        Because that's what being with Loki does, eventually it makes you reconsider your firm stance on everything, even God itself.</p><p>        “Loki, are you going to go back to England at the end of this year?” I asked him simply.</p><p>        “Yes,” he said after a pause. “I have to. It's my home. It’s where my job is.”</p><p>        I nodded sadly.</p><p>        “And I have to stay here. Because it’s <em>my</em> home. And it’s where <em>my</em> job is.” I said in a defeated tone. “And … and even without that, it wouldn’t work out anyway. If you really think about it for longer than a minute, what is there between us? If it’s just that our sense of humor sort of matches, you can find yourself someone else with just as caustic a tongue. Someone who doesn't budget for crappy cellphones or buys discounted Costco jeans. Someone who won't have panic attacks at the idea of private jets or expensive clothes. I know what you think you feel, but it's not real. You had a bad year, you experienced a lot of loss and a lot of pain and a lot of shock. I’m just a convenient vessel for all that misplaced and repressed emotion – a replacement shrew.”</p><p>        I sighed and once again started along the path beside the ravine, Loki was walking right beside me.</p><p>        “You do not get to say what happens in my head,” he said quietly.</p><p>        “Loki, what’s my favorite book?” I asked after a small pause. </p><p>        There was no answer.</p><p>        “What is my mom’s name?” I asked again and after another pause added, “I’m not doing this to shame you. I don’t know your mother’s name either. We don’t know nearly as much about each other as we may think.”</p><p>        We walked in silence for a time, the path narrowed to the point where we could once again no longer walk side by side. I went on ahead and Loki followed. The ground squelched beneath our feet and became more and more slippery. In the gathering dark I had to watch carefully where I was stepping. Finally, we came to an area where the path was altogether flooded. Among the runny mud sticks, boulders and logs stuck out at odd angles. I stepped onto a long trunk of a fallen tree so as not to get my boots dirty and when I got to the end of it I tried to hop from it over to a large flat stone closer to the dryer land.</p><p>        “Wait!”</p><p>        Loki’s voice came a second too late to stop me. My feet left the wet wooden log, my right foot landed firmly on the stone and for a moment I thought I made it fine.</p><p>        But then I realized - I was standing and yet I was moving.</p><p>        Time slowed strangely and I remember perceiving seconds as though they were minutes.</p><p>        An awful sense of something vaguely wrong hit me, a primal warning of suddenly being in danger, a terrible feeling of twisted foreboding. I turned to see Loki’s face, his eyes wide open in the gathering dark, open so wide you could the whites of his sclera all the way around his blue-green irises.</p><p>        “D-“</p><p>        I never got to hear what he said.</p><p>        The earth lurched underneath me and pulled me down with it. There was a sudden and roaring noise and my vision blurred as I hit the ground, or perhaps the ground collapsed atop of me, I was never quite sure.</p><p>        As Loki disappeared from my view I remember thinking,</p><p>
  <em>        So did he finally call me by my name, or did he use “darling” again?</em>
</p><p>        And all the while I fell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hehe, </p><p>Ooops</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Up and Down.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        I fell, and I fell, and I fell.</p><p>        Although it must have been only seconds, I felt that the whole thing took ages. Although it must have been loud, the sound was a low, muffled sort of nauseating rumble in my ears. Although everything moved fast I felt it as it happened in slow motion. I saw with disturbing clarity the wet earth moving, slipping past me as I uselessly tried to grab hold of something. Roots and rocks sailed by and then I caught the glimpse of the almost night sky and then everything was dark and sticky and made of gruesome moving shapes. </p><p>        I don’t remember getting hurt on the way down, don’t remember hitting anything. I just remember wanting to finally stop moving, stop spinning.</p><p>        And then, just as I thought I’d never be still again, I suddenly was.</p><p>        It took me some time to realize this and for a while I just lay there. I don’t know how long. I was relieved to be conscious but my brain short-circuited and wasn't processing any information.</p><p>        <em>Why can’t I see anything?</em> I finally wandered to myself stupidly. <em>Had the fall made me blind?</em></p><p>        I tried to move but absolutely nothing in by body cooperated with me.</p><p>
  <em>        Oh wait, my eyes are closed.</em>
</p><p>        They were, in fact, scrunched shut without me realizing it. I opened them and blinked a few times, but the surroundings became only marginally clearer as a result. Then I realized my arms were wrapped around my head. A protective reflex must have kicked in at some point on my way down. Moving them feels like a chore, a monumental task, everything felt heavy, weighted down. Gradually, my other senses came back, I suddenly could taste and smell earth. The smell was especially powerful - even years later it would haunt me - all around me, the overwhelming smell of wet soil, cold stone and rot. I could hear the sound of running water somewhere very, very close.</p><p>        And then the sensation of overwhelming, freezing cold hit me like a truck full of hammers.</p><p>
  <em>        Oh god my legs, I can’t feel my legs!</em>
</p><p>        I wanted to gasp but my body wouldn't let me, my chest felt constricted and I started to shake uncontrollably with fear and hypothermia all at once. I could feel my fingers only to realize they were going numb. I tried to sit up but my lower body would not obey. I tried to command my hands to grasp at anything and though the sensory fog I felt my head, all wet and caked with dirt and grass and rotten leaves and God knows what else. Some normal, rational part of me noted that if I was bleeding I had no way to know this. It was too dark to tell. I felt lower down and realized I was lying on my side, my upper body curled inwards and half buried. Below my hips I felt nothing but muddy earth.</p><p>        I was almost entirely covered in wet soil, I realized as my probably concussed brain tried to process the environment. Trying to feel around me to see if I could pull myself up on something I kept finding nothing but more mud, more earth that moved mercilessly under my fingers. The more I tried the more each movement brought on more sliding soil which just kept coming and coming. Once or twice a large stone came down and hit me hard, once in the arm and once so painfully in the ribs I had to stop and catch my breath.</p><p>        With an effort I twisted myself until I could see the sky. My vision was blurry and I could hardly make it out.</p><p>      <em>  The sun had set. </em>I thought lamely.</p><p>        How long have I been down here? Where was Loki? Did he fall too?</p><p>        I wanted to shout but I had to strength left in me to fight the crush of earth which settled on my chest. A terrible sense of defeated uselessness filled me. What would be the point of screaming? I was literal kilometers away from any living being.</p><p>        It hit me then that I would likely die here, under this layer of cold earth.</p><p>        I laid my head down, trying to make myself as comfortable as possible and looked at the dark sky above me. I don’t know how much time passed, I don’t think I ever lost consciousness but my brain did switch off to some extent. Below me water rushed on and on, above me the forest creaked. My situation was so dire that simply saying "I was scared" does not do the feeling any justice. In my head was a jumble of half formed emotions - fear, yes, but also a sense of being beaten by something so much larger and more uncaring than yourself. </p><p>        Was dad ever conscious after his accident? Was this how he felt? Or did he slip off into some great inky darkness from which he never woke?</p><p>        <em>Mom,</em> I thought at some point,<em> this will annihilate her.</em></p><p>        I thought of Loki looking at me as I fell, surely he wasn't dragged down as well? The idea of Loki accidentally falling down the cliff seemed ridiculous to my addled mind. I tried to focus on that because everything else was too much. Loki would never slip on a banana peel or a patch of ice, he would never slice his finger with a sharp end of a can of tomatoes, he would never trip over his own feet while running to catch a taxi. There was so many things I could never imagine him do. Eat a street vendor hotdog. Take a selfie. Decide not to shower and wash his hair after a long day because he's just too tired for it. Really I couldn't imagine him in any apartment like mine, a walk-up with one window and crappy pipes. I really should have messed with him more in the months we had. He thought Mary's cooking was bad just because it was a little too bland? I should have gotten him one of those Hungry-Man frozen chicken dinners with corn embedded in the "brownie".</p><p>        My mind was growing more hazy, I was starting to see floating lights out the corner of my right eye and not for the first time wandered as to extent of my cranial injury.</p><p>        Somehow, I could now both feel and not feel the pain. It was there but it was remote, as if my brain was not inhabiting my body fully.</p><p>        I started to hear strange distorted sounds over the rush of water too. At first I thought it was the call of some sort of bird or animal and it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that what I was hearing was the voices of several people shouting. Soon I could distinguish some of them and one was booming and thunderous and was so familiar it woke me from my stupor. I focused my eyes as best I could and I saw in the dark dancing glimmers of several lights high up between trees right above me.</p><p>        Flashlights.</p><p>
  <em>        Someone's looking for me!</em>
</p><p>        Moving again was harder than ever. My body was sluggish and uncooperative and it took massive exertion to make even the slightest movements. I tried to shout, but all that made it out of my mouth was a sort of feeble wheeze. Finally some two not-quite-dead-or-frozen brain cells sparked together enough for me to reached out, find the stone that was lodged somewhere at my side and push at it and vaguely down. With a great effort it dislodged, rolled and eventually hit water somewhere close by. The voices were much closer now and a cacophony of flashlights was suddenly bouncing all around me.</p><p>        I heard my name over and over again. Someone shouted it from up above and someone from down below. None of them were Loki, I was fairly certain. He never called me by my name. Finally, I recognized Thor’s voice but it was unlike the one I was used to. This time it was deep and booming and curt, he spoke in very short sentences I still somehow couldn't make out to a person not far off and then at last something beneath me moved and all at once I felt blessed warmth.</p><p>        “I have her! Bruce, get back, that side of the cliff is all ready to come down.” The rumble of Thor’s voice was right up against me now and I realized that I was in his arms and that I was shaking.</p><p>        Someone's face, or really more a simple outline of dark messy wavy hair and a flash of concerned brown eyes behind a pair of frame-less glasses, was looking down at me.</p><p>        "She's in shock," he said curtly. "Let's get her out of here, I’ll light the way.” </p><p>        I wanted to say that I really, probably wasn't. That I was just cold. I was much colder now that there was something warm next to me than when I ever was buried under all that muck. Instead,</p><p>        “Did Loki fall too?” I mumbled against the vast expanse of Thor’s chest.</p><p>        “No, milady,” he said with surprising softness. “He’s up on the cliff, he was signaling to us with a flashlight where to look for you. Val is with him.”</p><p>        “Oh. Good.” I said exhausted and my brain tuned out.</p><p>        Again, somehow I didn’t pass out but instead entered into a weird numb state. Thor carried me downstream for some time before laying me into a sort of make-shift harness that pulled me up and up and up. Different hands grabbed hold of me atop the cliff and pulled me up and laid me out on a stretcher. A blanket appeared over me and I was carried through the darkness until, to my immense relief I saw the familiar lights of Thor and Val's house. I was placed on a bed in a room that seemed somehow familiar and a steady pair of hands washed my face and my neck with a cloth quickly and efficiently. Something had began to sting somewhere. I wasn't sure where yet. When I saw a glimmer of scissors above me and heard the sound of cloth being cut away I thought,</p><p>
  <em>       Damn, this hoodie is almost new.</em>
</p><p>       I wanted to say that ruining my clothes was not necessary, that I was well enough to undress myself if they just let me rest a little first. I don’t remember if I actually said any of that, but in reply I heard the cool, hard voice I barely recognized to be Mary’s,</p><p>       “Hold her steady, she’s still in shock.”</p><p>       “I am not,” I croaked out stubbornly. “I’m fine.”</p><p>       “Hush my dear, I know what I am talking about,” Mary's tone was one of supreme authority that all good nurses, doctors, teachers and half-way decent parents of small children share. “No evident loss of blood, but extensive bruising on the right side all along the ribs," that information was clearly directed at someone else.</p><p>       “Stupid rock,” I mumbled.</p><p>       “Paramedics are on their way,” I heard Val’s voice from somewhere. “I will meet them and get them to come around through the side entrance.”</p><p>       Mary nodded without lifting her eyes off of me - her movements were fast and precise. I even recognized some of them. She was checking my vitals, looking for signs of internal bleeding, feeling my scalp for cuts and bruises. Once my clothes were out of the way she wrapped me in a foil blanket and then another wool one. Then she moved even closer and shone a light into my eyes, I made a face and tried to turn away and sit up but somehow couldn’t.</p><p>       My neck was in a brace, I suddenly realize. When did that happen?</p><p>       “Can you tell me your name, dear?" Asked Mary gently. </p><p>       “Of course I can, I’m fine, I never blacked out, I’m not concussed.” I persisted stupidly for some reason. </p><p>       “I need you to tell me your name,” Mary’s voice was kind but insistent.</p><p>       “Della Maria St.Clair,” I said finally after just a little bit of a pause. </p><p>       “Good, good,” the light shifted from one of my eyes back to the other a few times. “What is your home address?” She asked. </p><p>       “24 Arbour Street, New York,” I replied. </p><p>       I was warmer now, I still wasn't firing on all cylinders but I was at least a little sure I wasn't missing any either. I felt Mary’s hands on my wrist, measuring my pulse. I also realized that I was being held down on the bed. Two familiar, pale and wiry hands were firmly but not excessively gripping by arms, just below the shoulders. With an effort I looked up to see the lovely blue-green eyes looking down on me - their expression grave.</p><p>        “Oh, hi,” I mumbled. “Any reason you’re holding me down? Or is this for funzies again?"</p><p>        Loki’s expression softened just a little then. “You keep trying to get up, woman," he said quietly. </p><p>        “Oh, am I? Sorry, I won’t then,” I tried to relax and Loki’s hands loosened their grip on me but stayed on my shoulders and I was glad of the warmth and reassurance they provided. </p><p>        “Good, good, very good.” Said Mary encouragingly, “do you remember where you are?”</p><p>        “The house of Thor and Valkyrie, I was hired by them as a PT.” </p><p>        “Close enough,” said Thor’s voice somewhere close by. I didn’t even realize he was in the room. “You have us quite the fright, my lady," he added and he sounded so kind I somehow wanted to cry.</p><p>        “God, your party must be ruined,” I moaned instead. “I’m so sorry!”</p><p>        “Bah,” said Thor dismissively. “More food for us to eat! Now relax and try to rest.”</p><p>        Suddenly Val’s voice cut in from somewhere to my right, "the paramedics are here.”</p><p>        “Let us clear the room to let them work” said Thor, apparently to Loki. Suddenly his warm hands left me and I made a weak noise of protest but I could do very little else. I shifted my head and took in a bit more of the surroundings only to realize that I was in Loki’s room. I just didn’t recognize it because his hospital bed was very recently replaced with a Queen sized one and so some of the furniture was rearranged as well. A pair of paramedics entered through the now familiar double doors with a gurney. Mary spoke to them, quickly and succinctly with a lot of medical jargon I was too tired to process.</p><p>        After that I was lifted onto the gurney and wheeled out into the den. At that point there was a bit of a hold up. I lay there like a lump and waited as in the background the ambulance was being parked into better position so that it could take me away.</p><p>        I could also hear voices coming from the kitchen.</p><p>        “Brother,” rumbled Thor, “I need to have a word with you.”</p><p>        “I can give you two right now,” replied Loki venomously, his voice tense as piano wire. “Piss. Off.”</p><p>        “You are mistaking politeness for abundance of options again.” Thor’s voice was suddenly more thundering, dangerous even, however Loki seemed unperturbed. </p><p>        “Don’t pry brother.”</p><p>        “The Hell I won’t! When I hired this woman and offered her a stay under <em>my roof</em> with that came the implied promise of safety from harm of any kind. Now she’s being carted off to the hospital! This is not up for debate little brother. <em>We need to talk right now.</em>”</p><p>        There was a pause.</p><p>        “Fine,” said Loki, suddenly sounding very tired. “Just … not here, all right? Not <em>here</em>.”</p><p>        “Very well, come to the office then, I have a bottle of Raksi there”</p><p>        Loki replied something but I didn’t hear him, the voices moved away and at the same time I heard the paramedics approach me once again and start wheeling me out. I felt the cold air on my face and saw the sky momentarily and then I was in the ambulance. When I looked around I saw that Val was sitting just beside me, her mouth was one long line but her eyes were kind and warm.</p><p>        “You don’t have to be here,” I tried to say.</p><p>        This was all suddenly so embarrassing.</p><p>        “I know,” she replied and took my hand gently. “I don’t have to, but I want to be here. There is nowhere else I would rather be right now.”</p><p>        I wanted to cry. Maybe I did cry. Val’s fingers squeezed mine softly.</p><p>        “It’s not his fault,” I mumbled drunkenly. “It’s not anyone’s fault. It just sort of happened.”</p><p>        “I know,” said Val soothingly, “I know.”</p><p>        I wondered if she knew what I was really talking about. I wasn’t sure if I knew myself.</p><p>        The ambulance lunged forward a little and then started to slowly make it’s way around the house. Once it made it past the gates I heard the siren turn on and echo in the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I originally almost named this Chapter "Blood and Soil" since that sound kind of dramatic and nice for the climax of the story, but then some kind of warming fortuitously went off in my brain and I googled it and then went "Oh nonononononono, backspace, backspace!"</p><p>Turns out it's one of the slogans of the Nazis, Yikes!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Aches and Pains.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        At the hospital the doctors and nurses ended up running tests late into the night. I got a plethora of x-rays and ultrasounds, a cat scan and loads of blood-work to check for sepsis and tetanus and other fun things. Around the time the doctor sent me in for a cat scan I was mildly panicking about the cost, I had insurance but I wasn’t sure how much of this it was going to cover. When I picked a plan I was more concerned about stuff like appendicitis, I never once anticipated I’d fall down a muddy ravine filled with sharp rocks and God know what else.</p><p>        Then again, since no one was entirely sure what I hit on my down it’s not like I could blame the doctors for checking every little bit of my bruised and battered body.</p><p>        Because<em> oh God</em> was I ever hurting!</p><p>        By the time the shock of the fall and of the recovery had worn off every part of me was in <em>terrible</em> pain. I felt like a stuffed animal that went through the washer and dryer. My head felt like it was about to split open. My upper body felt on fire. My lower body felt as if someone had a go at it with sticks. Near so much as I could tell everything was where it was supposed to be an there were no evident breaks but that left a rich variety of other things that could be wrong with me swimming in my addled brain. I never managed to lose consciousness or even to fall asleep on the ride over and now in the hospital it seemed like a lost cause.</p><p>        Val was with me for three hours straight as I was prodded and poked and scanned. We didn’t talk much, but he helped me clean up a little bit more and change into a set of hospital scrubs. Now and then, between the doctors and nurses popping in she would ask me a simple questions, just to make sure my head was still working right. My now I had resigned myself to the fact that I was, at the very least, definitely and profoundly concussed. It was after midnight when Thor came to take over from Val, who was getting very tired and falling asleep on her feet. I heard them talk about how "he had sent catering home with pay", how "Bruce is staying in the south facing room but has to leave first thing in the morning", how "Mary is beside herself with worry" and, puzzling to my not quite there brain, how "I don't think it was like that" and "he caved in on himself". That last part was probably still about the stupid ravine coming down and I misheard some pronouns. </p><p>        After Val took a cab home and Thor stayed behind to look after me, I tried telling him multiple times that it was not necessary but it was like talking to a particularly stalwart and handsome wall. He did have a very kindly look in his eyes throughout, I never had sibling but it was the type I always imagine an intimidating older brother might give to a much younger sister. Which was a silly sentiment for any number of reasons and I would have kicked myself for it had I had the energy. </p><p>        Around 3am the last of the test results came in and after a bit of a wait a doctor came to talk to me. After polite inquiries I indicated Thor could stay and listen in as well.</p><p>        It was better than I thought it would be.</p><p>        Grade 2 concussion. Grade 3 whiplash. Sprained left wrist. Bruised right ribcage, particularly along the lower ribs. Serious bruising and muscle strain in the upper torso, particularly around the left shoulder. Most of the severe injuries were in my upper body. While I had plenty of bruises, small wounds and scratches on my legs it seems that I was going to be able to walk out of the hospital on my own two feet, at least. The numbness in my lower body, one that terrified my so wholly while I was in the ravine, was mostly due to the cold and being partially buried by the heavy earth and mud. The blood-work came back clean but the doctor warned me to keep an eye out for possible slipped disks or other spinal issues, which always show later.</p><p>        It was early morning when I finally checked out of the hospital for good. While filling out the paperwork I learned that a Mr. Thor Odinson covered any costs not covered by my insurance policy. I was, at that point, too tired to protest or even be surprised to protest. I just shook my head at him as much as my concussion allowed it. The doctors gave me a prescription for good pain meds, but I was in no mood to drive around the Hudson Valley District looking for a 24 hour pharmacy to fill it and anyway I wanted my head clear.</p><p>        Thor drove me back to their house his comfy, quiet Audi.</p><p>        It was still dark and the streets were deserted.</p><p>        I thought maybe I would be able to sleep in the car, but I doubted it. For one thing, my heart was still staccatoing with the events of the last 12 hours. For another, I was fairly certain Thor wanted to talk to me. After we finally pulled out the maze of the underground parking and settled into a smooth drive down the empty roads I sunk into the seat and said glumly.</p><p>        “All right, let’s hear it”</p><p>        Thor didn’t reply right away. He appeared to think over his question carefully for a few blocks. In the dark his hair could almost be mistaken for being brown, but his eyes were still perfectly cornflower blue. From where I sat, slumped in the passenger seat, I could see the straight line of his jaw, prominent in the sharp night city lights.</p><p>        “Milady," he asked with a casual sort of gentleness. "Are you in love with my brother?”</p><p>        Well, there it was.</p><p>        The silence that stretched between us was a better answer than anything else I could have come up with. I turned away and finally said,</p><p>        “It doesn't matter.”</p><p>        “I should think it matters a great deal," he said in that same kind voice that made me want to cry more than the injuries did. "Please understand, I don’t wish to know what happened between the two of you in any sort of detail. But your position in my house was an unusual and somewhat vulnerable. I left you alone and in charge of Loki who can be ... unpredictable and wily at the best of times, I just want to make sure that you did not feel at any point pressured or tricked into anything.”</p><p>        “You must have talked to Loki already.”</p><p>        “Oh yes,” he nodded. “And I formed my own opinions about what he told me, but I want to hear it from you as well. People are not all black and white, no one knows that better than me. Loki would never force anyone into intimacy, such an act would be beneath his character and his very particular sense of pride, but there are other factors of which he may be less aware of. Your position as a paid employee might influence you, seclusion for a long period of time, your emotional state, his emotional state...”</p><p>        Thor trailed off, he wasn't wrong and I understood his position.</p><p>        “It only happened in London, and by mutual agreement it didn't translate into anything while back here." I thought it would hurt to admit this to Thor, turns out, it was kind of a relief. This thing, this knowledge, sat in me for so long that when it dislodged it was as if I could think clearly again. "Everything that happened between us was entirely consensual,” I said firmly. “Everything that we did, we did with the understanding of each other’s boundaries. It could be that I overstepped them in some way and he didn’t let me know, but I find it hard to believe Loki would conceal such a thing from anyone. On my end, I assure you I am not the type to agree to anything that I was not entirely comfortable with. My fall was my own stupid fault, unrelated to the ... let's say fling. Loki never went near me - I was careless and I slipped.”</p><p>        “You are not exactly correct there” said Thor gently. “The recent bouts of rain shifted the soil near the river-bed in such a way that it produced a small landslide. The path you were on collapsed into the river through no fault of your own.”</p><p>        “What happened after I fell?”</p><p>        “Loki jumped back just in time to avoid being pulled in along with you. He rushed back to the house and let us know what happened. It was getting dark, we called the emergency services but we live far away and the sun was setting and time was of the essence. So Valerie, Loki, Mary, myself and a friend of ours who arrived early, went to look for you. As the two people who knew the path best Valerie and Loki stayed up on the edge of the ravine to indicate with lights to us where to look. Bruce and I climbed down to the river in a much safer location and waded it to see if we could find you. Luckily Val and I still had much of our rock climbing kit with us from the Nepal trip. It came in very handy, as did many of the survival and first aid skills taught to us on our excursion.”</p><p>        His voice became very grave.</p><p>        “In my heart, I feared you were dead," he said. "I feared that if at all, we would find only your body. You fell close to thirty feet, pulled down by wet earth and mud. It cushioned your fall, but it could have just as easily buried you alive. It is a miraculous thing that you sit in this car right now.”</p><p>        I shivered and Thor passed me his enormous wool jacket. After covering myself with it as if it were a blanket I said:</p><p>        “I am very sorry to have made you and Val go through all this. I’ll be out of your hair by lunch. I just need a little sleep before I head back to New York.”</p><p>        “You will do no such thing,” replied Thor patiently. “You will stay with us and recover. You are in no state to drive and the doctors recommended you several weeks of rest. Mary has already texted me saying she has no issue with helping you out, free of charge, and of course that is nonsense too! I will pay her. Starting now you are no longer our employee, you are a friend that had a terrible accident on our property and will be recovering with us. Perhaps you can spend Christmas with us as well.”</p><p>        I looked at him and shook my head, although it hurt to do so.</p><p>        “Thor, I know what you're doing. It won’t work. As I am no longer your employee I ask you, one human to another, please let me leave as quietly and quickly as possible. It is what I want and what I think would be best for everyone involved.”</p><p>        He sighed at that and then said sadly, “at least stay with us over the weekend. You need the care of a nurse and bed rest. On Monday Valerie and I will both work from home. We will help you pack up and arrange for a car to drive you back to your home in New York. We can also make arrangements for your car to be transported back somehow.”</p><p>        “It’s a rental” I said dully, “I can return it at any Alamo location and they charge my credit-card.”</p><p>        “Ah, even easier then, I will take care of it milady. I promise”</p><p>        I was too tired to argue. I felt that my head has been rung like a Notre Dame bell on Easter Sunday. With unseeing eyes I watched the city lights dash past me, then the lights went away and it became dark and I watched the sky turn. It was a clear night, millions of stars were above us, far more than one could ever see in any city. I never did fall asleep. I was too busy trying not to cry. My head was pounding viciously, my shoulders ached. My neck hurt no matter what position I put it in.</p><p>        My heart was breaking.</p><p>        As I always knew it would.</p><p>        But it was so much worse now. Worse because Loki asked me to stay and I didn't. Because he thought he cared for me and it was likely not nearly as true as he thought it was but neither was it an outright lie and that made everything so much worse. Worse because Thor wasn't mad and Val wasn't dismissive. Worse because I was in a strange place with no city noise, no job, no friends and family.</p><p>
  <em>        I want to go home. I want my mom.</em>
</p><p>        What a strange sentiment, one I haven't had in ages! Even when Craig and I broke up I didn't have it.</p><p>        When we pulled into the driveway, Mary came out dressed in her scrubs and helped me out of the car. Thor gave me a hand as well. Between the three of us I made it back to my guest room in one piece.</p><p>        “Your wife is asleep,” I heard Mary murmur to Thor. “She took a small dose of a sedative, so she asked me to tell you she may not wake up when you come in.”</p><p>        “Thank-you, are you quite all right on your own?”</p><p>        "Oh yes, no problems here," replied Mary easily with that nurse cheer. “And I think your brother is still up,” she added “I think he wants to speak with you, he is working in your office.”</p><p>        “Of course, I’ll go speak to him then,” Thor came up to me, gently patted me on my less hurt shoulder and said, “please rest milady, I will check on you later in the day. I hope you will be able to get some sleep.”</p><p>        So was I.</p><p>        By this point it could not escape even my moderately concussed brain that I should have conked out ages ago! And yet something was keeping me on high alert.</p><p>        As I sat on the bed I suddenly realized. It was the smell. Everywhere I went the nauseating smell of wet earth and rotten leaves went with me. It made me want to vomit. It made me shake. Mary saw my hands tremble and took firm hold of them.</p><p>        “My poor dear," she said kindly, "should I get you a sedative as well? You're all shaking and still in shock.”</p><p>        “Oh Mary!” I said, my voice raw. “Could you help me get clean? I feel like a sewer! I feel like I’m in the ravine still.”</p><p>        The good woman took one look at me and nodded. She ran me a bath and helped me wash out my hair which was an absolute bird nest. She gently scrubbed my skin clean and re-applied the bandages. When the water drained from the deep modern bath I watched the bits of dirt and crud that settled along the bottom. Then I took the shower head and washed them all away and watched them disappear down the drain.</p><p>        Mary helped me dry off and put on new clothes. It was then that she discovered I didn’t have any clean sleep shirts left. I packed very little with me, just enough to last the week and I always did laundry on Fridays. Obviously last night I never got the chance. Mary rummaged though my drawers for a bit, then picked up an extra large, white CK t-shirt from where it was draped over the edge of the armchair. I don't think she noticed it for what it was. There are so many white t-shirts in this world.</p><p>        “This will have to do for now,” she said casually. “I will do your laundry while you get some rest.”</p><p>
  <em>        Of course, why would it be any different?</em>
</p><p>        I pulled the shirt over my head, got Mary to help me with the sleeves and awkwardly shimmied into bed.</p><p>        The shirt smelled like juniper soap and pine body-wash and mint toothpaste. It smelled like blue green-eyes and long silky black locks.</p><p>        It smelled like Loki.</p><p>        As soon as my head hit the pillow my brain finally gave up and let me go. I plummeted into dumb, dreamless sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Farewells and Goodbyes.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Having slept for hours and hours I eventually woke up in exactly the same position as I fell asleep in. The blinds were drawn in my room but it was a sunny day and bright afternoon light was periodically peeping through the wide wall of plastic blinds. Stacked at my foot of the bed in neat piles were my clean clothes and next to them a big canvas bag. Mary was sitting at my side, working a crochet hook with terrifying efficiency to produce what appeared to be a purple and pink vest with little baubles.</p><p>        It was far too small for a baby.</p><p>        At my chuckle, which came out as more of a moan, she put her work down and gave me an encouraging smile.</p><p>        “Hello dear! How are you feeling?”</p><p>        "I ... don't know," I said uncertainly. "I think everything hurts, even my hair, but it's a lot more low key now? What time is it?"</p><p>        “It’s almost 2pm, are you hungry?”</p><p>        My stomach growled in response and she jumped to work passing me things and getting me things to drink.</p><p>        I drank water first, I drank and I drank and it was the best water I ever tasted in my life. Then I got to the food, apple slices and hard wedges of cheddar cheese and salty olives and those fancy crackers with seeds in them. And tea with loads of sugar, so much even my mother would approve. There was also a peanut butter and chocolate CLIF bar. My logical brain, making an appearance for the first time in quite some time, reminded me that sugar does not actually help with shock. It's just a widely accepted myth, but dammit it felt so good to have something sweet just then.</p><p>        As I ate my cheese with one hand Mary measured my pulse, took my blood pressure and my temperature and checked my pupils for any irregular dilation. Then she asked me more questions about events both recent and old to make sure I'm not having memory lapses. She checked my fine motor skills and reflexes and redressed my wounds. It was not a long process and I was helped throughout but it felt like lifting weights and a quick trip to the bathroom felt like running a marathon. Somehow I had started to laugh although it hurt to do it.</p><p>        “I told Thor I would drive back to New York tonight,” I told Mary after she gave me a quizzical look. “Christ-in-heaven I’m dumb! Look at me, I’m so wrung out I can barely lift my hands. If I got behind the wheel now I’d crash the car in the driveway.”</p><p>        “You were not yourself,” said Mary simply, but with great reassurance. “It’s not usual, even for someone who is experienced with physical trauma, as of course you are. The next few days will be difficult for you, I told them all that too. But some rest, some healthy food, some sleep should put you back on your feet soon enough. Try not to think about what happened for a time, try not to re-live it. Focus on something else, focus on getting better.”</p><p>        I laid there and tried but I felt exhaustion battle with pain and with every waking moment pain was starting to win. Mary helped me lay back down and for a while I was really, really almost convinced I didn't need painkillers but the idea of just laying here hour after hour in pain, not being able to rest, was more than I could take. Mary was nice about it and gave me a small dose of something the doctors prescribed at the hospital. Everything felt and smelled and seemed very fuzzy for a moment and then I was out again and the next time I woke up the sun had set and it was obviously late evening. Mary had finished her cat sweater and started something else, a yellow-and-blue blanket of some sort, probably for one of her grandchildren this time. The painkillers were still in full swing and I felt like I could hug the world and everyone in it. After having the most joyous, high pee of my life I ate the food Mary brought me on a tray - a ham sandwich, hash-brown, a banana and a glass of milk, without much distinction or even feeling of taste and went back to sleep and slept through the night and into the next morning.</p><p>        Sunday morning was a lot better, although the drugs have worn off and the pain returned it was not as bad and I felt like my body and my mind was my own again for the first time since the fall. I managed a shower and ate all my meals sitting up at the desk and moved around the room well enough though I was still stiff as Hell. The headache came and went but I was hoping to survive on extra strength aspirin from now on. Mary was still with me a lot and Thor and Val visited me in the morning briefly just to check in and talk about inconsequential things. No one brought up me leaving and I wondered if they were trying to see if I would remember myself, but my opinion didn't change, I still intended to leave as soon as my legs could carry me.</p><p>        Loki never came by.</p><p>        I was relieved at that to some extent. I didn’t want him to see me a drugged-out mess and it world hurt to have to feign small talk with him after our last conversation. The concussion I incurred was not severe enough to make me forget the lead-up to my fall. The final stake which I put in any possibility of us continuing any sort of relationship was still very much there. Nothing was going to change that. So really there was no reason why he should visit.</p><p>        And he didn't, not really, not in the direct sense.</p><p>        But that Monday I woke up from my mid-day nap suddenly and when I sat up there was a book under my right hand.</p><p>        <em>If Walls Could Talk</em> by <em>Lucy Worsley</em>.</p><p>        I never did finish it when I put it back in it's place on the shelf in Loki's apartment. That man's attention to detail was frightening.</p><p>        With my head still throbbing I certainly knew better then to read it intently, but the book had many pictures and illustrations and parts of it were underlined. Underneath Chapter 39 the Virginia Woolf quote "one cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well" was circled with a pencil, which made me laugh. So did the asterisk next to the quotation "there's more to life than hair, but it's a good place to start."</p><p>        On the top corner of the first printed page was simply</p><p>
  <em>        "- L, 2018"</em>
</p><p>        I spent an embarrassing amount of time tracing the tip of my finger over the inscription made up of only seven symbols. Loki's handwriting was sprawling and cursive with hard lines and narrow loops. When Mary came back into the room I had to hide the book under my pillows like a guilty child.</p><p>        Early Monday morning I woke up, got out of bed and carefully made it. Then I packed my things into two overnight bags which did not take me very long and left me only moderately tired. I tidied up the room, trying to leave it in the best possible state and then went in search of Thor and found him in his office drinking coffee and frowning at something on his computer screen. When he saw me at the door he smiled and got to his feet.</p><p>        “Milady, you are looking much better! Come in, come in.”</p><p>        He pushed a chair out towards me and sat on his desk top just a few steps away from where I took my seat.</p><p>         “I came to thank-you for everything you’ve done for me,” I said as I gingerly sat down. “You were a very generous and cooperative employer and treated me with respect - I always appreciated that. You paid off my hospital bills and expenses, let me rest up here, and of course you waded through a cold river to save my life, I can’t forget that. I keep trying to think of a way to thank you but I’m coming up short.”</p><p>        “I only did what I thought was right,” Thor shrugged with extreme nonchalance. “Was I to hire someone only to ignore their advise? Was I not to reimburse you for the troubles this placement brought you? Was I to abandon you at the bottom of the ravine? Bah! Espetially since you have helped out my family so much in these last few month. My bother walks again, what more can I ask for? And yet you kept our secrets and took on our grudges and the rest of it.”</p><p>        He looked me in the eye and his tone shifted and became kind and sad.</p><p>        “And you made Loki happy, for however brief a time it may have been. He’s had a very bad year milady, he’s had a lot of bad knocks, and yet whenever I would see him with you …” he trailed off and I squirmed under the gaze of his perfect blue eyes.</p><p>        “He loves you, surely you must know that,” said Thor finally.</p><p>        “I think it’s a little bit more complicated than that,” I replied.</p><p>        “Milady, I’ve known Loki my whole conscious life. Adopted or not, what does it matter when I cannot remember a time when he was not by my side? He is a difficult man, yes. He is arrogant and introverted and proud and repressed and he rarely has patience for just about anything. He holds complicated views on everything, even things for which complicated views are entirely unnecessary. But in love he is remarkably straight forward. He either loves or he does not. And I promise you that Loki loves you and cares for you. He ran, but <em>ran</em>, almost two kilometers to alert us of your fall. His hands were shaking, he was mad with grief and with guilt. It deeply distressed him to see you so hurt and that night he could not sleep in his bed because the memory of yourself, so gravely injured being in it, disturbed him. It disturbed him so much that he came into this office, drank an entire bottle of Nepalese whiskey and passed out drunk on that couch.”</p><p>        I winced and glanced at the long gray suede couch along one of the office walls. Just above it Thor hung up the framed portrait from his wedding. I looked away to avoid Loki’s eyes, even if only reproduced on card-stock.</p><p>        “If so, then it’s all the more reason for me to leave,” I sighed. “I'm very sorry to hear that he resorted to self-destructive behavior due to all these events. After he goes back home and adjusts to his old life again it will be easier for him to forget everything that happened here and move on. In time he will find someone to make him happy again.”</p><p>        “Is it the distance that disturbs puts you off?” asked Thor shrewdly. “Or perhaps the difference in wealth or ... or class? Neither of those are insurmountable.”</p><p>        I shook my head emphatically and winced as the gesture brought on a stab of pain.</p><p>        “Thor, please don’t, I don't want to talk about this.”</p><p>        After giving me another long look Thor finally capitulated, he got to his feet and went around to sit behind his desk once again.</p><p>        “Very well, I will make the necessary transportation arrangements,” he said. “Please at least have breakfast here before you leave. My wife will want to see you before you go and Mary will want to give you one last check-up. The car will come for 11am.”</p><p>        “Thank-you,” I got to my feet and turned to leave.</p><p>        “Della?”</p><p>        That startled me. Thor used <em>milady</em> as a formal term of address for me and Mary most of the time, to the point that him using my actual name was a little jarring. I turned back to see him regarding me thoughtfully.</p><p>        "Yes?"</p><p>        “I will say only one more thing to yo,” he said. “I met Valerie in 2012, when a friend of mine snuck a group of us into a party for Olympic athletes in East Village. That year she was the top athlete for the whole US team. She was unbeatable, fearless, clever, beautiful. I became stupidly besotted with her almost immediately and although I am not entirely hideous to look at, not entirely stupid or broke or incapable to polite conversation I considered her wildly out of my league. Every time we were together I was plagued with doubt. Was she just doing this to pass the time? Is she just being polite? And afterwards, after it became quite clear that we loved each other, for a long time I saw no conceivable way in which we could be together long term. She was an professional athlete who lived and worked and trained in the States and constantly traveled around the world for competitions. At the time I was tied to London, just starting to take on a managerial role the company following our father’s retirement. Our situations and backgrounds were wildly different. Our families and upbringing were incompatible. But it’s seven years later and here we are. I will not say it was easy and I will not say it was straight forward, but we got to a good place in the end. Please consider that.”</p><p>        “You are a romantic,” I smiled.</p><p>        “Ah, well, I’m a newlywed,” he laughed as he turned back to the papers spread on his desk. “We are a sickening bunch.”</p><p>        I left Thor to his work without a word, went back to my room and stretched out on the bed.</p><p>        It’s easy to be a romantic when it work out for you in the end. On this side, where the choices are very much still stacked against you it’s another story. Even if Thor is right and Loki does feel something genuine for me as I do for him, so what? It doesn't solve anything. It still would never work out between us. I’ve committed easily to being with someone across the world before and watched helplessly as it all slowly crumbled. The plans we built, the love we had, the commitment, the time, the care, the love <em>oh God the love</em>, where did it all go in the end? How could it just disappear? In six months!</p><p>
  <em>        I’m starting to resent your existence in my life.</em>
</p><p>        That voice, that phrase, so easily said, made me wince after all this time.</p><p>        Less than six months.</p><p>        If I started something with Loki and it ended up the same way again, the idea of hearing something like that from <em>him</em> …</p><p>        The love viewed in hindsight is, of course, always less intense than the one being experienced in the moment, but even still I was sure that the same phrase said by Loki to me would hurt a million times more. And wasn't Loki a playboy anyway? Someone with an "ultraviolet" sexual past? Lisa Narracott seems to have been Loki's attempt to stay on the straight and monogamous path and with that now firmly over would Loki not want to live it up for a few years? It would be understandable, in a way.</p><p>        I groaned as I felt a headache coming on and sat up, just as I contemplated taking an aspirin there was knock on the door and Mary came in with breakfast.</p><p>        We chatted as I ate and afterwards she did her last checkup on me.</p><p>        “Blood pressure, temperature, hear rate – all normal,” she said cheerfully. “You seem to be recovering well. I'm very relived, for the first 24 hours after your fall we all expected much worse I'm afraid. It's always good in this profession to be proved a pessimist.”</p><p>        “I gave everyone quite a fright,” I said self consciously. "I feel so bad!"</p><p>        “Oh no dear, falls are like that and people not accustomed to seeing someone in shock can get quite panicked. It was not my preference to have the whole family be so in contact with a person so injured. You know how untrained people can be around someone who’s ill or hurt. Half the time they do more harm than good, never meaning to, of course, but just out of fear. Though I must admit Mr. and Mrs. Odinson kept their cool and they had to act quickly what with the sun setting. It would have taken much longer to find you if we waited for a rescuers to come. As it turns out both were well trained in this sort of search-and-rescue from their trip which was quite the blessing."     </p><p>        Mary started putting away her instruments and packets of bandages and gauze.</p><p>        “Mr. Loki wanted to go down with his brother," she continued with a sort of absentminded cheerfulness. "Thank God his brother was against it. I told him not to as well, he was in no state to do that kind of physical activity. But when has my opinion been much to that stubborn man? Of course he didn't listen and you were not there to back me up."</p><p>        She gave a little laugh and added as she zipped up the blood pressure monitor into it's vinyl case. "Mr. Thor said he would tie him to the tree to keep him from doing something so foolish! In the end Mrs. Odinson suggested he help her up on the ravine ledge and that pacified him some but oh, he was angry! Not used to being told 'no', I've said so! He was worried though, being with you as he was when you fell. I think he felt guilty, though he'd never say. He asked to come to the hospital with you as well but I advised against it. Too high strung he was, all twitchy and a bundle of nerves. The last thing a concussed person needs to be around. In the end Mrs. Odinson went, which was for the best really, she's far stronger than the both of them and knows all about taking care of injured people what with her background in such a brutal sport.”</p><p>        Mary slung her duffel bag over her shoulder with a practiced gesture and picked up the tray with the dishes from my breakfast. She gave me an odd little look and I realized something must be off about my expression and schooled it into something more neutral.</p><p>        “We made a good team against Loki,” I said mildly. “He should be okay on his own from now on though, and I’m not in any state to provide physical therapy.”</p><p>        “No, I dare say you’ll need some yourself,” agreed Mary. “I’m leaving this afternoon as well, Mr. Odinson arranged a car for me. Really he was so nice about it, this was very good placement all in all. A pity it had to be so far from my family. I still have to pack my things, but I'll be sure to come by and say my goodbyes dear.”</p><p>        I held the door for Mary as she bustled out and afterwards sat down on the edge of the bed and stared ahead for a while digesting all that she said.</p><p>        Did Loki feel guilty? I thought he might feel, well, bad for me, sorry for the fact that I got injured. I knew he was probably worried. But <em>guilty</em>? That would be completely irrational. It was obviously an accident.</p><p>        But I suppose that doesn't mean he didn’t somehow feel responsible.</p><p>        I sat there for a long time thinking about nothing, staring into space, not really knowing what to do. The clock on the wall ticked and tocked and small gusts of wind piped up against the window sometimes. I was a little sick of the quiet of this place. It left me too much alone with my thoughts. I missed the mid-night arguments of neighbors, honks and tire screeches of cars below my window and I missed the lights of the city that never-ever went out. I also still missed my mom which was really funny combination because my mom really hated the sounds of New York. Along with the smells of New York, the sights of New York, the textures and flavors of New York and everything else imaginable about it. I felt vaguely ashamed that I got so hurt and so close to dying or really, permanently injuring myself and she didn't know. The old Catholic guilt, never far even from the most recanted former faithful.</p><p>        There was a knock on the door and Val poked her head in. She must have just showered, her hair was still wet and I could smell something coconut-y in the air.</p><p>        “Your car is here,” said Val. “But don’t feel rushed, Thor and I can help you with the bags.”</p><p>        “There really isn’t a lot,” I said and pointed at the two bags by the door as I got to my feet, I put on my flimsy sports jacket on and zipped it up. Then I stopped dead and remembered something else. As Val watched me with curiosity, I got onto my hands and knees and fished out from under the bed the four parcels I had stuffed there a month ago.</p><p>        “These too I guess,” I mumbled stupidly, still kneeling.</p><p>        There was a pause and then Val came in and sat on the floor next to me.</p><p>        “He is downstairs. In the garden," she said quietly. “I'll get everything sorted here. You should at least say goodbye.”</p><p>        That was hard to argue with, I got to my feet and made my way down the hallway and past the kitchen towards the back of the house.</p><p>        Loki wasn’t in the garden. He was standing in the hallway just outside it and looking out at it through the tall glass wall. It was snowing just a little and the tiny chips of ice would fall on the ground and each bounced several times before melting. They lingered longer on the wooden bench under the red maple, which was now dark and stripped bare of its foliage. Loki stood at ease, as a soldier might, with his hands behind his back. He wore a well-tailored black suit and a crisp dark grey shirt, but no tie. I came closer and stood next to him, he didn’t turn but instead continued to stare straight ahead.</p><p>        “How are you feeling?” he asked after a small pause.</p><p>        “Better," I admitted. "How are you feeling?”</p><p>        Loki’s head inclined just a few centimeters to the right in a puzzled gesture.</p><p>        “I am certain I do not know what you are talking about,” he said.</p><p>        “No? Thor tells me he’s one bottle of liquor short."</p><p>        “Thor tells people too many things,” Loki’s tone was sour. “Yes, very well, I had a great big hangover, but then it passed.”</p><p>        “Was that Raiki stuff even good?” I asked.</p><p>        “No. It was vile,” replied Loki dismissively. “Thor’s been had as usual, good Raksi should taste a bit like sake. What he was sold tasted like cleaning fluid.”</p><p>        “Yet you drank the whole thing.”</p><p>        “It got the job done,” Loki shrugged still never breaking his gaze from the scene of falling snow outside. Then he asked quietly, “have you recovered?”</p><p>        “As well as I could, given the time frame. I’ll get more rest over the next few weeks while I'm at home.” I fell silent for a moment and then added, "I’m leaving you know, right now, the car is waiting for me outside.”</p><p>        “Yes, I know, literally every person in this lunatic asylum helpfully informed me.”</p><p>        "The book ..." I started to say.</p><p>        "Is yours," he interrupted. "I want you have something of mine as a gift. I am quite vain like that."</p><p>        "Loki, you gave me so many gifts!"</p><p>        "Ah but you may sell the gown some day, the shoes, the bag, the coat. You would never sell a book, I should think."</p><p>        And that was true, because of course it was.</p><p>        “I’m sorry it all got so crazy," I whispered to him in the deserted hallway. "I’m sorry your brother and his wife found out, I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted it to be. I find myself regretting more and more things as time goes on.”</p><p>        “That is your way,” he sighed and turned to face me at last. “I regret that I introduced you to one of the most toxic people on the planet who then proceeded to invade your privacy and publish photos of you without your consent. I regret that his resulted in your reprehensible former step-father attempting to blackmail you, that it upset you and made you not think straight. I regret pushing to discuss topics that should have been left alone at that same time. I regret that while distracted by these unpleasant experiences you slipped and plummeted thirty feet down a sheer cliff and nearly caved your head in on a rock and died while I stood there like a pillock. I regret that I could do nothing to help. By comparison all of that, the rest of what happened between us I could learn to live with.”</p><p>         I wanted to do something then, to hug him, to touch him, to hold him, but I didn’t trust myself. It's never just a little bit with Loki, if I hugged him I would be tempted to kiss him, to run my fingers through his hair and scratch at the sensitive skin at the base of his neck. And that would literally bring me to where I started from and would hurt us both. So instead I said jokingly:</p><p>        “Please don’t tell me you are blaming yourself gravity, rain and the human condition. I will remind you internal self-flagellation in my pastime. You can’t have it.”</p><p>        “You should not be having it either. That habit of yours should be released into the wild,” he teased lightly and I smiled back. </p><p>        And then it hit me. We could stay here like this and chat about nothing for hours and hours. Only we couldn’t. I had a car waiting. I had to leave right now. I will never see him again. And just like that the smile dissipated from my lips. I saw his disappear quickly after. We looked at each other, lost for words.</p><p>       “Goodbye Loki,” I said finally.</p><p>       “Goodbye Della,” he replied.</p><p>       With great effort I forced my feet to move. I walked passed him and away, back through the house to the entryway where Thor and Val and Mary stood waiting for me. I said my goodbyes and thanked them again for all they have done for me. I received a hug from each, walked out into the cold December air, checked on my bags in the trunk and climbed into the back of the hired car. The driver carefully navigated the slightly icy gravel pathway, turned onto the main road and drove away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So that trailer, eh?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Attempting normalcy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        My apartment block was a severe six-storey red-brick monstrosity built some 40 years ago, with small narrow windows and no balconies, only zig-zagging rickety metal fire-escapes for the truly gymnastic residents to save themselves on in case of fire. There was an echoing stairwell in the middle and the individual apartments on each floor circled it, rather than stretching in one long hallway. Viewed from the top it was a severe and rather hideous rectangle - there were two-bedroom apartments at each corner and on the longer sides of the building there were two one-bedrooms between them. On the shorter sides two studio apartments were sandwiched between them instead. Mine was a studio that separated the Khan family of four and the Liu family of five. As the kids from both families were of an age there were constant and very in-depth Pokemon and Stephen Universe discussions under my door, usually lasting until one of the parents came to break it up.</p>
<p>        As I made my way up the stairs I was really hoping coming in during the middle of the weekday would mean my neighbors were elsewhere. Any number of them might question the high fashion boxes being carried up four flights of stairs to my apartment by a hired driver, who's name was Tony and who was under strict orders not to let me lift any item heavier than my own purse. If there is a guardian angel out there that protects one from neighborhood gossip it worked it's magic that day and I managed to slip into my place undisturbed.</p>
<p>        My home is really nothing more than a large room. There is a tiny square strip of linoleum at the entry way to serve as an entry space - with just enough room to put a standing coat hanger and a mat for outdoor shoes. On one side of the door was the bathroom, on the other the area opened into a small kitchen and breakfast nook. Beyond was a couch and coffee table, two armchairs, a discounted Wayfair set of shelves that also served a room divider. In one corner were two partitions made of very 80s frosted glass and within was a twin bed, nightstand and the smallest IKEA closet arrangement known to man. On the other side of the frosted glass partition, right by the only window, was a small desk and a comfortable chair. The entire right wall of the apartment, from the bathroom to window was one continuing floor-to-ceiling wall of varied BILLIE shelves, the contents of which changed depending on what area of the apartment they were in. Closer to the kitchen were cookbooks and drawers full of dishes and non-perishables that didn’t fit into the tiny amount of kitchen storage available. Then came the shelves of painstakingly collected old DVDs and CDs, VOGUE magazines, souvenirs and photos in picture frames, history and art books, fiction, weird and varied vintage books I've collected over the years. Closer to the "office area" were old textbooks and binders of notes I still kept, additional books on kinesiology, anatomy and biology I've purchased over the years and some medical and scientific journals.</p>
<p>        When I was here last it was a month ago and I was freaking out about going away to London with Loki. I was in a very different state of mind when I returned. After thanking Tony and closing the door after him I took off my boots, sat on the edge of my bed, closed my eyes and for a moment listened to the familiar sounds around me.</p>
<p>        A car alarm went off somewhere.</p>
<p>        A pipe gurgled ominously to my right, somewhere within the most criminally small shower.</p>
<p>        Someone was walking a yappy dog.</p>
<p>        Someone was having a row in Puerto Rican Spanish - dispute between drivers by the sounds of it.</p>
<p>        <em>Chayote</em> this and <em>comemierda</em> that ...</p>
<p>        Home, I was finally home.</p>
<p>        Slowly, I laid down and curled up, still in my street clothes and pulled the edge my blanket over myself. Something broke in me then and for the first time in ages tears spilled from my eyes and I cried and cried bitterly. It was as though all the stress and anxiety and feelings of repressed attraction and love, the guilt and the fear all broke through and overflowed out of me in a torrent. I cried and cried until I cried it all out. It took a while and afterwards I lay still for a while more, steadying my breathing and trying to relax the tense muscles of my body. I took stock of the situation. My head was hurting. My arm. Neck and shoulders. My back. The afternoon rush hour was starting up. I was hungry.</p>
<p>        Finally, I sat up and pulled myself together.</p>
<p>
  <em>        That’s enough of that. I've been wallowing in angst for too long. You play the cards you are dealt.</em>
</p>
<p>        I got to my feet, took a good dose of aspirin and a long hot shower and changed into comfortable PJs. I ate a Michelina’s microwavable fettuccine Alfredo frozen dinner which tasted distinctly of plastic and whey, then got to work unpacking and separating what needs to go in the laundry. It was getting quiet in the room so I put some music on. The four boxes I put away into the big storage bins under my bed. Lucy Worsley's <em>If Walls Could Talk</em> fit nicely between Kurlansky's <em>Salt</em> and Dan Jones's door stopper <em>The Plantagenets</em>.</p>
<p>        Finally, I did something I was holding back on for a while. I sent an e-mail to the head of the referral company I worked for and through which Thor found and hired Mary and myself. This was not the unusual practice. The company operated with decent oversight, but unless there was a specific issue there was not really a protocol to check in with anyone immediately at the completion of a placement. As my employer, Thor would be asked to fill out a survey and judge my performance, but it would take some time for that paperwork to go through. Given his attitude towards me in the last few days I doubted he would handwrite “<em>fucked my brother, but he seemed okay with it</em>” in the margins and I sure as Hell would not be bringing that up, but there was a few things I still needed to discuss with the higher ups.</p>
<p>        In leu of any specific reason for the meeting I simply added the link to the Evening Mirror Online article and clicked SEND. The reply came back within the half hour it took me to fold and put away my whites. I was scheduled for an appointment at the Reliable Networks Inc. head office at 9:30am tomorrow. The head office was in downtown Manhattan and it would take two buses and a 15 minutes walk to get there. After finishing up with the laundry and the tidying up, I made a grocery list, laid out my clothes for the next day, then took some more aspirin and headed for bed early. The city noise and the events of the last several days in combination made it difficult for me to go to sleep right away but I got there in the end. The following morning, dressed in business casual, I made my way to the imposing glass building on West 35<sup>th</sup> Street with some time to spare. The Reliable Networks offices were on the 36th floor and when I got there flashed my keycard at reception and made a beeline for office behind glass doors at the end of the hallway and stopped to chat with Natasha, executive assistant to company director.</p>
<p>        Natasha and I are decent friends. She’s always good for a fun night out and has excellent taste in clubs and clothes. She was born in Russia, traveled all over the world, at some point modeled in Japan, speaks something like four or five languages and when she walks down the street people actually stop and stare. Nine times out of ten she's a red head but it varies from season to season. She's ruthlessly efficient and sits behind an impressive throne-like mahogany reception desk in a series of killer YSL and Alexander McQueen suits with a Matryoshka and a Maneki-neko figurines for company. After catching a glimpse of me down the hall she waved me in while on the phone with someone and after she hung up she handed me a cup of coffee in an insulated mug in one smooth gesture and said,</p>
<p>        “I heard you had a rough placement,” without preamble.</p>
<p>        “How. In the Hell. Did you hear that?” I said, my feet growing cold in panic.</p>
<p>        “Thor Odinson called <em>Her</em> this morning while I was in the her office. He talked about your fall, wanted it known it was an accident and that the placement ended early because of that and not because he was unsatisfied with your work. Gave both you and the nurse a glowing review,” Natasha looked me up and down. “Did you really fall down a cliff?”</p>
<p>        “I didn’t fall so much as sort of … rolled a lot,” I sipped my coffee and tried to still my hammering heart.</p>
<p>        “How bad is it?”</p>
<p>        “Concussion, whiplash, bruised some ribs,” I shrugged. “Definitely could have been worse.”</p>
<p>        “Definitely, no club nights for a while then?” She smiled sympathetically.</p>
<p>        "God no," I said, relieved I had an excuse for a few months of staying in. "Last thing on my mind at the moment. I'm eating aspirin like it's candy."</p>
<p>        "But you'll be all right? Will there be lasting damage?"</p>
<p>        "The doctors at the hospital told me I should be able to make a full recovery but to keep an eye out for a few things," I sighed. "What was just the hospital nearest to the Odinson house but it was a nice one because the area is so posh. I'll check in with my own doctor, have him look me over too."</p>
<p>        Natasha leaned in closer and asked, eyes bubbling with curiosity, “How were they? Did you meet Val North?”</p>
<p>        “Oh yea, she’s very nice, they are both super down to earth. Paid off my medical expenses and arranged for someone to drive me back to New York and everything. And even before that, it was a really good placement. They have a very comfortable, modern house and the most amazing gym facilities.”</p>
<p>        “How was the patient?”</p>
<p>        “He was … alright,” I shrugged trying to look casual and set off a pained muscle in my shoulder. “A bit rude, nothing new in this business.”</p>
<p>        I glanced towards the closed double door.</p>
<p>        “What’s her mood like today?”</p>
<p>        Natasha propped her chin with one hand and waved the palm of the other to indicate a vague uncertainty.</p>
<p>        “Not sure, a little apprehensive maybe? Worried? But that could be anything, maybe Tony decided to improve something in the house again and blew it up. Again. Or maybe she's just done with the year, I think everyone is basically in Holiday mode now. How about you? Got any plans?”</p>
<p>        “Entirely depends on my what my next assignment will be and when.”</p>
<p>
  <em>        And whether or not I keep this job in general.</em>
</p>
<p>        “Oh you won’t get anything so close to Christmas,” said Natasha easily. “The requests really taper down by the end of the year, I forwarded her a few in the city for the start of the year, she might give you one of those.” She glanced at the clock, “It’s 9:25am, should I let her know you’re here?”</p>
<p>        “Might as well,” I took a step back and straightened out my blazer.</p>
<p>        Natasha spoke into the phone briefly then hung up and said brightly,</p>
<p>        “Yep, come on in, she’s waiting for you.”</p>
<p>        I took a deep breath, schooled my face and pulled on the cold brushed steel door handle.</p>
<p>        This was going to be tricky. I was going to try to bullshit my boss. I was going to try to bullshit Pepper Potts.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Phantom Pain.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          Have you ever needed a nanny and wanted to be sure they don’t have a history of violent behavior or a secret drug problem? Have you even needed a healthcare worker and wanted to know if they were ever involved with a malpractice case? Have you ever needed a cleaner, a house keeper, a gardener, a caregiver, a tutor, a chauffeur or anyone else who would be exposed to you and your loved ones, possibly at a vulnerable time and you wanted to be sure, super sure, that they were reliable people? That they did not have a history of violence, or were under criminal investigation or were married to the mob or secretly a supervillain or something. But at the same time that they are still competent, responsible and good at their job.</p>
<p>          Pepper Potts probably has someone for you.</p>
<p>          Pepper knows everyone.</p>
<p>          Her people skills are only outmatched by her organizational skills. However, above all her professional skills stands the supernatural ability to detect and ferret out any kind of bullshit. And then call you out on it. Pepper Potts worked for Tony Stark for years, first as his executive assistant, then Head of Staff, then Director of Operations, eventually rising to a VP position. During his wilder years, of which there were many as any tabloid can tell you, it was pretty much assumed she ran the company for him and while I always thought those rumors to probably a little exaggerated, I didn’t doubt for a moment that they were also largely true. I also didn’t doubt for a moment Pepper could run Stark Industries. She could run anything. She was that kind of woman.</p>
<p>          Eventually even Tony Stark noticed that. He and Pepper were married in what was The Wedding of the Year some five years ago. Around that time Pepper decided that living AND working with Stark is a bit much even for her, so she started her own company – Reliable Networks Inc. It was, simply put, an intermediary between would-be employers and would-be employees but with extraordinarily strict screening processes for both. As a potential employee you needed full accreditation, letters of recommendation and an impeccable employment record just to apply. From there, should you be selected, you would go through several rounds of interviews and an intense background check. Not just criminal records, all sorts of stuff was looked into, Pepper had an army of private investigators at her disposal.</p>
<p>          When I scared off Paul by threatening to call the IRS on him, some of the information that I listed I knew from my days of still living under the same roof as him. His propensity for claiming fraudulent disability, for example, was on ongoing thing I witnessed for years. But things like him being under investigation for credit card and mail fraud was information that came up during my background check. It wasn't held against me because my mother and Paul had parted ways years ago and I clearly didn’t have any contact with him. Pepper only mentioned his shady dealings to me as a general heads up when I was hired on three years ago.</p>
<p>         The whole process took ages and was pretty arduous but if you got through it you could be hired privately by some of the best clients available. Pepper screened potential employers just as thoroughly. So while the company did take a cut of my fee, I was far less likely to be groped or hit on by a creep, or be invited to join some weird megachurch, or be pitched a cult-y MLM, or just be called "exotic" over and over so I felt it was a good trade off.</p>
<p>         Reliable Networks prided itself on the high standards of all involved and never once had a brush with any kind of scandal.</p>
<p>         But here I was bringing some.</p>
<p>         Pepper Potts-Stark sat at her wide and white desk in her minimalist, wide and white office with the Manhattan skyline shimmering in the bright morning sun behind her. She wore an deceptively simple, impeccably well-tailored white business suit and a flowing blouse the color of the summer peaches. Her red hair was pulled into a careful bun at the base of her neck and she wore white pearl stud earrings and a wedding ring and engagement ring combo that rivaled the GDP of Moldova. When she saw me come in she gave me a polite, businesslike smile.</p>
<p>         “Della, I’m glad you’re here, please come in,” she gestured at the seat in front of her. “I was very distressed to hear about your accident. How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>         After taking a seat I succinctly summarized the nature of my injuries and the fact that they were uncomfortable, but not debilitating.</p>
<p>         When I finished Pepper nodded,</p>
<p>         “I received a call from your employer first thing this morning,” she said. “He stressed to me his complete satisfaction with your work performance and that the fall was an accident. A mudslide on his property. He mentioned his brother was with you at the time?”</p>
<p>         “The Odinsons were having a party that day, so the house was very busy and the weather was quite nice for the first time in a while," I practiced this lie very carefully in my bathroom mirror for some time this morning. "The patient and I agreed to shorten the usual set of exercises and have a jog on their extensive grounds instead. I thought the fresh air and change of pace would do him some good but the path took us too close to the river. I really should have taken a different route but at the time it didn’t even occur to me, I thought I was sufficiently familiar with the landscape and Mrs. Odinson often took the same path during her runs so I thought it was entirely safe."</p>
<p>         “The patient was not hurt?”</p>
<p>         “No, I led the way to set the pace, he was some ways behind me.”</p>
<p>         Pepper nodded, typed something into her computer and after a pause said very neutrally, “now tell me about this dinner in England.”</p>
<p>         She didn’t say “<em>and what the hell you were doing at it</em>” but I could hear that second part looming over me unsaid.</p>
<p>         “In the middle of the placement Loki Odinson needed to fly out to England for business and to attend this gala-dinner-thing. He requested that either Mary or I come along just in case something goes wrong. Mary had family obligations while I was quite free so I agreed. The Odinsons covered the cost of travel and Loki Odinson allowed me to stay in the spare room at his London apartment. At the last moment his plus one cancelled and he asked if I wanted to come along instead."</p>
<p>         This was much easier to say to one's own reflection, but I persevered, especially when it came to the trickiest part.</p>
<p>         "I was offered some things to look the part and figured there was no harm in it," I said as casually as I could muster. "The patient is fond of hard liquor and I thought it would be a good excuse to keep an eye on him. I never dreamed anyone would care enough to take a photo and publish a stupid story on it, but apparently the Odinsons have a feud with the local yellow press so here we are.”</p>
<p>
  <em>        ... the simplest lie, comprised primarily of the gently massaged truth ...</em>
</p>
<p>        Pepper tapped her pen against the pad of paper on her desk distractedly - three short taps.</p>
<p>        “Was there any other press coverage?” She asked finally.</p>
<p>        “Not that I know of," I replied honestly.</p>
<p>        “What else?”</p>
<p>        I told her about the call my stepfather made and my response to it.</p>
<p>        Tap. Tap Tap.</p>
<p>        “In your opinion, do you believe Hallstatt will follow through on the treat?” she asked.</p>
<p>        “Honestly - no,” I replied. “Paul's lazy. You’ve seen his record, he only does the simplest thing that will get him to the easiest cash. I didn’t immediately agree to pay him and he has a lot to lose. I just don't see him doing the work of contacting an overseas tabloid for a few grand when the hide the IRS would peel off of him if he was investigated after being thrust into the limelight would be much, much worse. But I didn’t want this to catch you off guard, I wanted you to know, just in case I'm wrong. I've not heard from him in years and years, maybe his situation has changed and he's more desperate, who knows?”</p>
<p>        After thinking all that over Pepper nodded,</p>
<p>        “Very well. If pressed for comments Reliable Networks will confirm that you are an employee who passed all required background checks and possess all necessary credentials in your field. No comments will be issued beyond that, especially in regards to the nature of your assignments as all contracts are private and confidential. This is our company policy regarding such things. Do you have a lawyer?”</p>
<p>        “Yea, I got one.”</p>
<p>        “I would advise you to warn them about this and if you are ever questioned I would advise you to say nothing. Tabloids can twist any reply into a scandalous story, if pressed for comments refer them to an attorney.”</p>
<p>        “Fair, I'll contact her office, she took care of my NDA already so this won't be out of nowhere for her.”</p>
<p>        “When do you intend to go back to work?” asked Pepper giving me a once over that lingered on my bandaged wrist.</p>
<p>        “As soon as you give me something.”</p>
<p>        One perfectly shaped strawberry blond eyebrow curved way up at that.</p>
<p>        "I'm fine!" I said defensively.</p>
<p>        "You fell thirty feed down a cliff," the other eyebrow went up.</p>
<p>        "On very soft earth, I swear! I just get headaches now a bit and the binding I can get rid of in a few weeks. I'll take December off but you weren't going to give me anything before the end of he year anyway, right?"</p>
<p>        I held Pepper's scrutinizing gaze for a few moments as she considered something then sighed defeated.</p>
<p>        "I will need you to fill out OSHA paperwork. Natasha is putting together a package. Like it or not, you had a workplace accident, we will need medical reports from the time of the accident, an investigation will be conducted and I will need a report from your current physician and if, and only if, their assessment is that you can start working again in the new year then we will pick a case for you."</p>
<p>        "But there is no harm in me becoming familiar with a potential case file before then, right?" I said hopefully. "Just as background reading."</p>
<p>        With a shake of her head Pepper slid a tablet towards me, “Very well, you are correct, December is a quiet month this year. I have a possible January placement on file for you - Benedict Wong, 48 years old, bad fall took out his knee and fractured his hip. Lives in a walk-up brownstone in Manhattan. Not a live-in assignment. Doctors project at least 3 months of physical therapy.”</p>
<p>        I flipped though the medical information. There was a lot more available than what the Odinson assignment was giving me. I nodded.</p>
<p>        “This sound fine, I’m down for this if they take me and you permit me to get back to work.”</p>
<p>        “Natasha will send you all the information we require and an OSHA representative will contact you to take your statement. We will not schedule the interview before I receive the preliminary investigation results.”</p>
<p>        I nodded and got to my feet. Pepper looked at me thoughtfully but didn’t dismiss me. After a moment she asked in a different, slightly less businesslike tone,</p>
<p>        “Why did you agree to go to the dinner with him?”</p>
<p>        I was conscious of the fact that any long pause would condemn me.</p>
<p>        “He asked nicely,” I replied with a shrug, “for someone like Loki, that’s a bit rare.”</p>
<p>        Pepper clicked on some button on her keyboard and a photo of me and Loki, arm in arm leaving the gala filled her screen.</p>
<p>        “That is an off-the-runway Dior gown from the last fall collection,” she pointed out mildly.</p>
<p>        “Like I said, he asked <em>real</em> nicely,” I didn't want to gulp like a cartoon character in a Bugs Bunny short but it was tempting.</p>
<p>        Tap. Tap. Tap</p>
<p>        I didn't look at the photo, tried very hard not to look at it, in fact. Not just now in the office but every day since I found out about it's existence. But I didn't need to see it to know it and I hated that. There was some truth in it, something in my eyes and my posture, the way I leaned into Loki's body.</p>
<p>        Our coats were open when we stood on the stoop waiting for the taxi.</p>
<p>        If I tried very hard I could almost forget the warmth of his body that night.</p>
<p>        “I’ve met Thor and his wife a few times, but never his brother," said Pepper carefully. I noticed she wasn't looking at the photo either, she was looking at me not looking at it. You don't end up wrangling Tony Stark in with pies and flowers and sweetness of mind alone. I'm maybe ten years younger than Pepper Potts but even if I live another twenty I will probably never get on her level of reading people at a glance.</p>
<p>        "Aside from Mary's early reports, I had to take Thor at his word regarding his brother's character. What is he like?” she asked.</p>
<p>        “Difficult,” I replied honestly.</p>
<p>        “Yes, so I gathered, but beyond that.”</p>
<p>        “Millionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” I said as I finally met Pepper's gaze. “Good guy, but you really have to look for it to see it. Funny. Charming when he wants to be, but mostly just obstreperous. You know, <em>the usual</em> …”</p>
<p>        Tap. Tap. Tap.</p>
<p>        <em>Smile</em></p>
<p>        Just a little one, just a slight curve of perfectly colored lips at one side, but it was definitely there.</p>
<p>        “Very well," she replied finally, "I hope the investigation is resolved as soon as possible and we can set up an interview for you within the next few weeks or so. In the mean time please get some rest and take care of your injuries. Natasha will keep in touch.”</p>
<p>        I said my goodbyes and fled at a casual pace. </p>
<p>        That week was all business and I was extremely busy. I had to contact my lawyer and my family doctor, schedule multiple appointments, take care of the workplace accident paperwork and meet with the health and safety people put on record what happened at Thor's house. I wanted to get it all done before the Holidays started and everyone lost the will to work.</p>
<p>        The rest of my time was spent trying to sleep, drinking camomile tea, doing exercises on a yoga mat in my apartment, going to a massage therapist and being extremely hard up and horny. Pornography lost its charm and I was rather crabby about it. My own imagination was still very much active and I was even madder about <em>that</em>. I wanted to throw myself into work but there was no work to be had. So I read, sent out Christmas cards, baked cookies for my neighbors, listened in on strategy discussions regarding retaking of certain Pokemon Go gyms that were happening under my door. I bought my mom three pairs of the same angora cardigan in different colors. I bought <em>Pachinko</em> for Natasha. She's Russian and so loves a good long book about generations upon generations of hardships.</p>
<p>        Recovery was going a little slower than anticipated. Physically I healed well enough but I kept getting headaches and, worst of all, nightmares, which really disrupted my sleep and left me tired. When Mrs. Khan gifted me a whole tray of kanafeh and said I looked "peaky" I knew I had to do something.</p>
<p>        I did take the tray though, who am I to deny the gift of sweet cheese?</p>
<p>        In the second week of December Natasha managed to set me up with the interview and I got that January job in the end. The paperwork for my accident was still being processed but I was deemed fit to return to work and I got an offer of employment a few days later. The same day I signed the paperwork for a three month PT commitment, I went online, posted photos of runway Dior gown and within 6 hours sold it, for just over a grand, to a nice 20-something named Eman who always dreamed of getting married in a green dress. After dropping off the pristine white box and confirming the money transfer I went online and booked an economy round trip ticket to Savannah, Georgia. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year,<br/>Apologies for the delay, I thought I would get more of a chance to write over the Holiday period but that was clearly folly.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Home for the Holidays</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        It was unseasonably warm, even for Georgia, when the plane touched down and tepid rain was falling quietly. The entire city was bathed in a cool mist coming up from the harbor. Bright, flickering Christmas lights and decorations reflected eerily on the wet asphalt and in the windows of familiar buildings and shops.</p><p>        My mother lived in an old townhouse near Forsyth Park which she inherited from Grandma Caro. She worked as an office administrator in one of the local middle schools and rented out rooms to out-of-town tourists on the side. I’ve known that house all my life and it changed distressingly little in all that time. My mother grew up in it and she was always hesitant to change anything about it, a result there was a lot of rugs, well kept antique furniture and Victorian-style china. Since my last visit my mother had at least gotten rid of the heavy cloth curtains and replaced them with white blinds, a practical concession I pitched in with, as the old heavy drapes and folds collected a lot of dust and needed to be constantly and expensively cleaned. The old hardwood floors still creaked and the shutters still groaned on their hinges during windy nights.</p><p>        I got through the door well after midnight - the plane landed late and it was a long drive from the airport through the fog-filled city. It would be naïve of me to think that my mother could be asleep and sure enough the lights were on in the kitchen.</p><p>        She was making scones. Presumably some were for her guests, who were staying in the converted rooms on the top floor but she also always cooked when she was nervous and she was always nervous when I traveled anywhere. When I came in and put my suitcase down she immediately pulled me into her comforting embrace.</p><p>        “Oh honey,” she murmured quietly. “What’ve they all done to you?”</p><p>
  <em>        Damn it, how does she always know?</em>
</p><p>        I didn’t fight her, I just hugged her back and when we pulled apart we were both covered in flour.</p><p>        We had a good laugh about it.</p><p>        I never did tell everything to my mom.</p><p>        It would have taken too long and it would have scandalized her, but mostly I didn’t because I didn't feel like it mattered and she didn’t either. She just wanted to know if I was all right and I told her I was, but I needed a break and time to recover. So we went grocery shopping together and I helped her clean the rooms upstairs and tidy up after her guests and make them breakfast. When there was time and the weather was good we would walk together in the nearby park, as her doctor recommended her more exercise, and on Christmas Eve we went to midnight mass at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. Catholicism and I have not seen eye-to-eye since I refused to be Confirmed at 13 and it bothered my mother to this day, but as I no longer was vehement about it she learned to live with it too since it kept the peace.</p><p>        Plus, I actually find the smell of incense quite soothing.</p><p>        On Saint Stephen's Day we went to visit dad.</p><p>        He was buried in a lot at the far back of the cemetery beneath a simple granite gravestone. As a child, I would bring him paper flowers or other thing, boats, planes, hearts, but the weather was wet throughout my stay and any sentimental origami work would turn into mulch in minutes so it didn't seem like a good idea. Mother brought flowers as she always did - blue irises this time. She wiped water and wet leaves from the headstone and cleaned the engraved surface with a soft cloth. </p><p>
  <strong> <em>Frederick Liam St. Clair </em> </strong>
</p><p>1960-1996</p><p>
  <em>For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven. </em>
</p><p>- Ecclesiastes 3:1</p><p>        As I stood there, I wondered about my father - was he truly meant to die? I really struggled with this idea, which was often put forth to me when I was a recently bereaved child. That God has a plan for everyone and that my father's death was not meaningless. But I could never shake the feeling that dad's death was just an awful random event that altered my life in a million different ways.</p><p>       I thought of Mr. Lafeyson, was he meant to die? Was his wife meant to die as well? Was Loki always meant to be Odinsons's son? With all the financial and social privilege and paternal coldness that implied? What would be the point of such a plan? My dad was a good father and his life was tragically cut short, Loki's biological father never got a chance to be a father at all, the only person that did get that chance pretty much blew it, in so far as I could tell. Because, yes Mr. Odinson Sr. certainly provided for all his kids but he also set them against each other and made them miserable and was only honest with them in death.</p><p>       I wondered if Loki was looking for information on his biological parents. He certainly had the resources to do so. Does he have an extended biological family? Would someone like Loki be interested in contacting them?</p><p>       "Della? You have such a distant look on your face, what's the matter?" asked my mother as she stood beside me.</p><p>       "Oh I was just thinking how easy it is to promise yourself you won't give something any thought anymore and how actually difficult it is to follow through on it," I sighed.</p><p>       "Do you find yourself dwelling on memories too much?" asked my mom sympathetically.</p><p>       "Something like it." I sighed "Do you? Dwell that is?"</p><p>       "Oh yes, but not nearly as much as I used to," she nodded. "It's really why I just come here twice a year now, any more and it becomes self indulgent. I used to go every weekend and just stay here and miss him and think about how happy we were together, but if you pickle even in the most happy memories they start to sour and you get so lonely and so vulnerable. Sometimes I think, maybe if I managed my grief a little better I would not have gotten involved with Paul. Who knows?"</p><p>        So apparently questioning the flow of the universe is something I got from mom?</p><p>        Who would have thought it?</p><p>        It was getting rather cold so we made our way back home, over the next few days it snowed but it never stayed on the ground. New Year's came quietly to the St. Claire home, many of the tourists stayed out all night but my mother I and went to bed early. For a few more days I rested, read, helped around the house and chatted with the guests, most of whom were young couples seeing the city on a budget. Altogether it was a nice and relaxing two weeks, marred only by one unpleasant but necessary conversation. I had to let mom know Paul had contacted me and tried to get money out of me. I didn’t get into the details of it but told her it had to do with a well-known client I took on this year. I knew it would upset her but I had to let her know, just in case he tried to contact her as well. I gave her the number of my lawyer in New York too, again just in case. The conversation happened on my last evening in Savannah, my return flight was in the afternoon of the next day. Mom and I were sitting in the kitchen late at night drinking tea after finishing the baking of two dozen breakfast bran muffins for guest breakfast tomorrow.</p><p>        “Honey, what else are you not telling me?” asked my mother finally, after stirring in a second heaping spoon of sugar into her cup. “It can’t be that you’re so upset over Paul calling you. Is it because you got hurt on the job?”</p><p>        “No,” I said with a sigh. “That was just an additional thing that didn’t help matters.”</p><p>        I told her I got injured because I slipped and fell at a gym while helping a patient. It was an easy and convenient lie that she may or may not have bought. It was always hard to tell with mom in such cases.</p><p>        “So it’s boy trouble then.”</p><p>        It wasn’t a question, there was a certainty in her voice</p><p>        “Mom, I just turned 30, please don’t call it boy trouble!” I said with a wince.</p><p>        “Oh but honey, to say you've got trouble with a man is just so ... unbecoming.”</p><p>         With my mother’s accent she pronounced it "ma-ehn" and it seemed like she was talking about some dangerous species of wild animal that needs to be carefully studied and treated with utmost caution.</p><p>         “I met someone, but it didn’t work out,” I admitted. “He’s not from around here, it would have to be long distance. And we were very different, came from very different backgrounds...”</p><p>        “Oh Lord in Heaven, he’s from California, isn’t he? I always feared this would happen!” She actually clutched her chest and I had to bite my tongue so as not to laugh at the sincere horror in her voice.</p><p>        “Not exactly,” I said after I swallowed down my giggles. “It doesn’t matter, I broke it off before anything started in earnest. The odds were too stacked against us.”</p><p>        “Stacked against you?” She repeated, “well goodness gracious, isn't that a little over-dramatic?”</p><p>        “You wouldn’t understand,” I said, annoyance seeping into my voice.</p><p>        “Honey, hush,” she said and suddenly her voice became strict. “I know plenty about odds stacked against me. Your father and I got together in the 70s, in Georgia. Or are you going to tell me it’s as bad as that?”</p><p>        I was taken aback by that.</p><p>        “No,” I had to admit, “it’s not at all as bad as that.”</p><p>        “So what is it then?” she inquired.</p><p>        “He’s from a different country and … just different, okay? Very different.”</p><p>        “You mean he's rich.”</p><p>        I just stared back at her as she gave me a small smile.</p><p>        “Honey, you work for a lot of people who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, it was always possible you would meet someone who has a bit more in the bank than yourself," she pointed out placidly.</p><p>        “Why do you think I met him though work?” I asked.</p><p>        “Oh you always meet boys through work,” she said gently. “Because work is all you ever do. You met that boy Craig through work too. And before that …”</p><p>        “Alright, alright, alright …” I interrupted before she decided to go down memory lane and review my entire dating history all the way back to that one guy I made out with while we were both working the evening shift at Baskin Robins. “So what, you think my reasons are not good enough?”</p><p>        “Oh Honey, it doesn’t matter what I think,” she said. “I don’t even know the man. But it seems to me that if you’re so cut up over him and if he’s got it just as bad for you, well then it’s a bit of a shame isn’t it? Not to even try?”</p><p>        “It’s just … the idea of an actual long-term relationship with him felt so ... unreachable,” I said sheepishly.</p><p>        “All roads seem long when you start out, but if it’s meant to be, God will provide.”</p><p>        I sighed a little at the staunch Catholic conviction in her voice. I never had the same level of faith in anything as she did in providence, but I was not willing to say that last part out loud so I dropped the topic entirely and started talking about something else. Mom didn’t insist on dwelling on it either and eventually we both retired to bed.</p><p>        The next morning I packed up my bags and after we had one last long walk in the park, I got into a cab and headed back to the airport. When I got back to New York the whole city was covered by several inches of sticky wet snow and the roads were filled with salty slush.</p><p>        It was time to get back to work to work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Lost and Found.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Benedict Wong, who, much like Cher or Beyonce, preferred to be called just Wong, was a good-natured man approaching his early fifties in generally good health. When exiting the New York Public Library, where he worked, he slipped on the steps and took a bad fall that shattered his femur. However, all medical procedures went well and he was an excellent patient, although his living arrangements left much to be desired. He lived in an old brownstone with a lot of narrow staircases and hallways and no elevator, so helping him get around to the gym or to appointments and check-ups was the main difficulty, particularly in the slippery, snowy months of January and February.</p><p>        I can’t say those months passed quickly for me but neither did they drag. Work kept me busy and, after a few weeks of self-imposed solitary confinement made me a little cranky and over reliant of Googling people I had no business Googling, I made a pact to go out and do something at least once a week. Either with Natasha or a few other friends from my college days I managed to have quite a few decent evenings and got distracted for a time, but when the opportunity for a date or a hook-up presented itself I always declined. I just didn’t have any desire for it. Perceptive as usual, Natasha interrogated me about it a bit but I never told her or anyone else about what happened between Loki and me. It was my own little secret and while some people knew bits and pieces of it I had no desire to share the full story with anyone.</p><p>        Mid-February I bumped into Mary Breslow in a lineup at a Manhattan Starbucks. Without her scrubs and with her hair down she looked very different and I didn't recognize her at first. She was with her daughter and her twin grandchildren, now 18 months old they sat in a double stroller and gnawed on identical lollipops they received after getting an identical sets of immunizations. Mary and I chatted a little and she politely inquired after my health since the fall.</p><p>        “Oh, I barely think if it anymore," I lied. "Only the occasional headache now and then.”</p><p>        After a second of hesitation I decided to ask her something that’s been at the back of my mind for a while now.</p><p>        “Mary, you don’t have to answer me, I’m only curious, but did Loki Odinson ever … give you anything? Like a thank-you gift?”</p><p>        “Oh my yes!” Her face lit up suddenly, “I was so surprised because, you see, I never thought he liked me very much, but come Christmas we get a big envelope from a bank and inside is all this paperwork ...” she paused and her voice dropped to an excited hush,</p><p>         “He made accounts for both of them!”</p><p>         “Accounts?”</p><p>         “Oh I don't know quite what you call it but it's to collect money for school for my grandchildren! They were set up since September of last year and he put <em>five thousand</em> in each one! We were so happy! My daughter cried! The man at the bank said that with such a big contribution so early on if we keep putting even a little bit every month from now on by the time they are eighteen there will be enough money for both of them to go to just about any university or college they like! Just think! No student debt!”</p><p>
  <em>        So that’s what he meant.</em>
</p><p>        “That’s fantastic!” I said sincerely, “and very kind of him for once."</p><p>        “There wasn’t even a return address! I wanted to send a thank-you letter but I didn’t know where he even lives. So I contacted his brother so that he could pass it on to him. Of course, I doubt he would care very much, he’s not that kind of person.” She trailed off and then gave me a curious look,</p><p>        “Did he give you something as well?” she finally asked. </p><p>        “Yes,” I replied. “He bought me some very nice clothes, very expensive ones.”</p><p>        “Oh,” Mary was taken aback by that, “I thought it would be something else.”</p><p>        “What do you mean?”</p><p>        “Oh, nothing, just …” she trailed off and then suddenly blushed a little as if caught off guard. “I just thought he might give you something a little more romantic. I ... I always thought he was a little sweet on you.”</p><p>        “Mary!” I exclaimed and added a bit lamely, “he was not.”</p><p>        <em>Even Mary noticed it something! How embarrassing!</em></p><p>        “Oh but dear, I was with him longer and I knew what he was like before you came along. He really took to you and liked chatting with you. He always brightened up when you were around. If ever you came by after your usual time, he would always perk up and be in a better mood. Not very obviously so, but you see, it was my job to watch him so I just sort of noticed."</p><p>        "And oh I didn't want to tell you then, but he was so, <em>so</em> cut up when you fell and got hurt! Beside himself at not being strong enough to help out more! He’d have carried you from the ravine to the house by himself if he could! I could see it in his eyes! And, forgive me, but I thought maybe you sort of liked him a little too. You always teased each other like like a pair of kids at a playground! And I thought maybe after your placement was over and done with he might say something to you or you to him. Did you not … stay in touch?”</p><p>         Mary flushed at her own unintended euphemism, no doubt to her it was terribly embarrassing to admit she effectively shipped a patient and a co-worker. I didn't even have it in me to find humor in the situation. </p><p>        “No,” I said somewhat dejected, “we didn’t.”</p><p>        After bidding farewell to Mary, I wandered the streets of Manhattan for a while, looking into shop windows but no really registering what I was seeing.</p><p>        I missed Loki.</p><p>        I missed him a lot.</p><p>        At random hours of the day, ever since we parted, whenever something good or bad or silly or serious would happen I somehow always wondered what he would say if I told him about it. Which was so <em>stupid</em>! We never even dated! I had no reason to think we would make a good couple. I had no reason to miss him as though he was a boyfriend, when he never was one.</p><p>         I tried hard to push away these feelings but they always surfaced and after my talk with Mary something broke and I just sort of made peace with them. I fell in love and it wasn't going away no matter what I was doing. There was no closure, this unresolved thing, whatever it was - affair, hook-up, fling, dalliance, encounter - it became a part of me and it wasn't letting go.  </p><p>        Sometimes I would pull out my phone and just re-read exchange of text messages we had months ago. That jerk, my bill was over 200$ that month.</p><p>        I could message him. Theoretically I could. Sometimes my fingers even started to type. Sometimes it was something casual. Sometimes it was a long and serious missive about how I missed him and wanted to see him again. Sometimes it was just a photo of something weird I saw. Sometimes it was a link to an article I thought he would find interesting.</p><p>        But I never hit SEND.</p><p>        I would always erase it.</p><p>        Because the truth of it was, I insisted on the break,<em> I</em> shut <em>him</em> down. And Loki ... who knows? Two months is a long time and he didn't seem the type to pine. </p><p> <em>       ... Rampant sexual promiscuity in a bad emotional time would not even be all that out of character for me ...</em></p><p>        It was about two weeks later that I had to lock my phone in a kitchen drawer because I found myself constantly agonizing over whether or not to send a single message and it was getting in the way of me sleeping. So instead, to distract myself, I took <em>Le Petit Prince</em> with me to bed, a book I had not read for years and years, not since I was a child. The words of the story flowed through me easily but when I got to the chapter with the fox I had to put the book down.</p><p>        I had bad dreams that night. First, I simply dreamed of a fox in a sunny wheat field, but slowly the dream changed and instead I saw the heavy, smelly, wet soil all around me, falling atop of me, smothering me, choking me and woke up with a headache and covered in cold sweat.</p><p>        That day was Friday, the first of March and so I went to work. The winter was starting to pass and there was no snow on the ground though the morning was cold. However the day turned out to be sunny and cool with just a hint of spring. Wong had a guest coming over for the weekend and so we cut our regime short that day. Wong’s apartment was on the Lower East side and as I made my way back home to Queens I was texting Natasha periodically, we were planning to get together and check out a new restaurant over the weekend. After the bus crossed the bridge it idled for a long time in traffic. There was construction nearby and the streets were clogged. It was a nice day and I got off the bus early and decided to walk the rest of the way to stretch my legs.</p><p>       While waiting for the lights to change I bumped into Mrs. Ng and her 14-year-old daughter Tina. They live on the forth floor and Tina knows the other kids on my floor so I often see her running up and down the stairs. We chatted about the weather as we came up to the apartment building and entered the foyer, I unlocked the door and I came through first, then held it open for them to follow.  My phone was still in my hand I felt it vibrate in my hand just then. Still thinking it's Nat, I glanced at the screen and stopped dead in my tracks.</p><p>- <strong>I am in New York for a time</strong> (4:42pm)</p><p>- <strong>Would you be interested in meeting?</strong> (4:42pm)</p><p><strong>Yes</strong> (4:43pm) -</p><p>        My reply was immediate. My fingers typed it on their own, without giving my brain any time to provide any kind of input.</p><p>
  <em>        Loki's in the States. Loki's in New York.</em>
</p><p>        Buzzz</p><p>- <strong>Behind you</strong> (4:44pm)</p><p>        I whipped around.</p><p>        Loki stood in the shabby, never-renovated, questionably stained, 80s-styled lobby of my apartment. He was leaning slightly on the back of the much cracked faux-leather couch in an immaculate charcoal grey suit, black shirt and dark green tie. When our eyes met he stepped forward and then stopped, as if uncertain.</p><p>        A crushing wave of relief and of joy hit me.</p><p>        “Oh thank God!” I whispered and without a second thought lunged forward and closed the space between us. My face got buried in the crook of his neck, my hands flew around his neck and he went with the momentum of it all and wrapped his arms around my waist, swinging me in a round little arc as he pulled me closer and closer.</p><p>        He felt warm.</p><p>        He felt safe.</p><p>        I closed my eyes and felt as though I was about to cry.</p><p>        “We didn’t even hug goodbye ...” I mumbled lamely against his shoulder.</p><p>        “I know, darling” he said softly, "I think, perhaps, we both behaved rather like fools." </p><p>        I laughed at that and hugged tighter and felt his lips press against my temple.</p><p>        How long did we stand that way? 3 seconds? Or thirty? I don’t know. When I opened my eyes Mrs. Ng was dragging Tina up the stairs. The eyes of the teenage girl were bubbling with curiosity. I smiled and pulled away, I wanted to look at Loki again, I wanted to take in every detail and make sure it was him.</p><p>        He had gained some weight in the last few months. His hair had grown longer and once again started to curl slightly at the nape of his neck. His eyes were just as piercing as blue and as green as I remembered them to be. He looked good. I had a million things I wanted to tell him and yet, stupidly, the thing that actually flew out of my mouth was,</p><p>        “How did you get into the building?”</p><p>        “A woman walking a dog held the door for me,” Loki's voice was still hushed, as if he was telling me some terrible secret.</p><p>        “You would find the one friendly person in New York” I smiled at him.</p><p>        “To be fair, I think she thought I was here to serve someone a subpoena,” he replied wryly.</p><p>        I laughed and it felt so good.</p><p>        “Oh I missed you!” I sighed.</p><p>        “And I missed you, so very much."</p><p>        “Come upstairs with me,” I said, “or do you not have time?”</p><p>        “My evening is free,” he replied simply.</p><p>        And just like that, I was with Loki again and it was easy and it was comfortable and it felt right. He pocketed his smartphone and picked up his coat and stick from the nearby table and together we made our way up the stairs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Della stops reading Le Petit Prince at Chapter 21, which happens to be this one:<br/>https://www.angelfire.com/hi/littleprince/framechapter21.html</p><p>If you've not read the books I highly recommend it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Digressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry I was late with this update. <br/>For one thing I had some family stuff that needed to take care of, but for another I really, really didn't know whether to post this chapter or not. <br/>In the end I decided to, it breaks the narrative a little but hopefully you will enjoy it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        As a long-time and sporadic insomniac, Loki had a rule – if he wasn’t asleep by 2AM he was never going to get to sleep at all so there was no point in staying in bed. It was 2:10am when he finally sat up - not a grain of sleep in his eyes. It’s been nearly a month since his return to London, so it could hardly be the time difference, besides which he knew the signs too well - this was definitely insomnia.</p><p>        For which he had medication, somewhere, though no doubt expired it could probably still do the trick.</p><p>        But if he were to drink it now it would knock him out into next week.</p><p>        Loki glanced at the sleeping figure next to him. Tussled sandy blond hair, elegantly sculpted athletic back, shapely legs, excellent breath control when the occasion called for it …</p><p>        He indulged himself with a sigh.</p><p>        No, it would not do, he obviously needed to be awake and functional this morning.</p><p>        Loki climbed out of bed, threw on whatever clothing he could find and made his way downstairs and to his office. Sitting down at his desk he spent a long time looking at the blank screen of his computer, as if willing it to turn on by magic. He was tired, both mentally and physically and could not muster to care very much about anything. Finally, closer to 3pm, he got his brain to stop jumping around enough to do some work. For about three hours Loki managed to get a number of tasks done, mostly drudgery - reviewing quality agreements and contracts, going through the budget projections, deleting HR newsletters without reading them and other basic tasks. As some point he looked up and realized dawn was breaking. Standing by the long narrow window he watched the sky gradually turn from dark to faintly blue to pink. The sun would not rise for another hour or so but it was morning none-the-less. Above, he heard the unmistakable sound of the shower starting.</p><p>
  <em>        Ah, so he’s up.</em>
</p><p>        Loki thanked the blessed athletic habits as this would surely make his morning easier. Shutting down his computer he went into the kitchen and started the coffee maker. It was never his belief that one should kick out a bed-mate, no matter how casual, into the night. It seemed downright rude in a manner that did not appeal to his otherwise perfectly rude nature.</p><p>        He drew the line at making them breakfast, but always offered coffee.</p><p>
  <em>        Usually.</em>
</p><p>        Loki rubbed the back of his neck and tried to chase away the headache that was starting to form there.</p><p>        It will be years before he would ever be able to stomach pancakes again, that much was certain. What utter foolishness spurred him to play the host and … he frowned at the coffee which slowly dripped into the carafe. On a morning like this it was simply not going to cut it. Instead Loki went to the bar housed in the antique dining room credenza and poured himself several shots of the 20-year-old Glenfiddich, all the while vaguely aware of the fact that this was, in fact, a bad idea.</p><p>        He stood with his back to the stairs, sipped the rare whiskey and once again stared out the window, until he heard approaching footsteps first in the hall and then coming down the stairs.</p><p>        “You’re up early,” the voice was chipper and light-hearted and entirely misplaced in Loki’s gloomy abode. He turned to face his guest.</p><p>        Fandral was raised by, and grew up among, utter narcissistic sociopaths so it took him only a glance to see things for what they were. His eyes lingered for a moment on the glass in Loki’s hands but he chose not to comment on it.</p><p>
  <em>        But my, how he’s grown.</em>
</p><p>        He was very nearly eight year’s Loki’s junior and as a result only in the last half a decade or so did he reach an age in which it was possible for Loki and him to occasionally tumble between the sheets without feeling like some sort of unsavory crime was been committed. They had shared a number of good times before Loki’s relationship with Lisa became monogamous and after bumping into him last night it was easy enough to be tempted into a one-night stand of sorts.</p><p>        “You didn’t sleep at all?” Fandral asked casually as he got himself a cup of coffee, “I thought you got better with that?”</p><p>        “It varies from moment to moment,” said Loki dryly.</p><p>        “It wasn’t something we did, right?” he asked in his usual, half-joking tone. “I know you were more hurt than you let on last year, but I figured enough time passed and you knew what you were doing.”</p><p>        “Unrelated,” said Loki simply.</p><p>        Frandal nodded, “I’m going to head out after this,” he raised the cup he was drinking from as if in a toast. “I’m having a late breakfast with my uncle. You know he’s staying at the Savoy through winter?”</p><p>        “Smythson is miserable this time of the year,” Shrugged Loki.</p><p>        “Smythson is miserable in any time of the year,” Said Fandal cheerfully. “Would that they turn it into an amusement park already.”</p><p>        He drained the last of the coffee and put the cup in the sink then crossed into the living room to grab the ludicrous aviator jacket he tossed away last night. It was really only to make fun of it that Loki approached Fandral in the bar in the first place. He was perfectly ready ignore him and remain unnoticed in his booth but the sight of Fandral with a sheepskin collar and fake patches was more than Loki could bear silently.</p><p>        It did look warm, he had to give him that.</p><p>        On his way to the door Fandral stopped and for the first time allowed himself to look concerned, which annoyed Loki to no end.</p><p>        “There’s a café in the basement, isn’t there?” he asked almost too casually. “You wanna to go grab something?”</p><p>        Loki gave him as long and as withering a stare as he was capable of.</p><p>        “Go.” He said finally and simply.</p><p>        Fandral took that direction and left but not before treating him to a final and quiet little pitying exhale just as he closed the door.</p><p>
  <em>        Idiot</em>
</p><p>        Loki wasn’t about to call the night a mistake outright but it was, perhaps, ill conceived. He had merely thought that being with someone he already knew would make things easier and more enjoyable. The woman he’d had here just a few weeks ago turned out to be a migraine-inducingly bad experience and as it was his idea to go out and pick someone up for the night, he had precious few to blame for the disheartening experience. He knew it was likely to be a run-of-the-mill and quite pedestrian sexual encounter but he was surprised how unpleasant the whole thing really became by the end. He felt almost outside of his own body for some of it, looking down on his on activities with a distanced sort of distaste.</p><p>        And yet he fucked her all the same.<br/><br/>        He pleasured himself physically and he hurt himself mentally.<br/><br/>        She seemed to enjoy the night and even left him her number which went straight in the trash. There wasn’t really anything wrong with her. She was a perfectly nice bit of stuff. He just didn’t want her.<br/><br/>        He didn’t want Fandral either.<br/><br/>        He wanted …<br/><br/>        Loki looked down and was surprised to see that the glass he was holding was empty. He had intended on sipping it all afternoon. Annoying. Infuriating really. He placed it on the island, absentmindedly opened the refrigerator - saw a whole load of nothing he knew it contained - closed it and slid onto the floor with his back to it. Sitting like this, barefoot in his own kitchen he stared stupidly at the cold tiles and <em>remembered</em>.</p><p>        She stood right there and made him dinner and he knew the image would haunt him and he tried ruining it, perverting it, unmaking it and it was no good. She was here for 48 hours and managed to haunt the space more than Lisa, who had somehow lived here for close to 5 years and yet barely made an impression.<br/><br/>        Loki looked up at the empty glass on the counter.<br/><br/>        That won’t do, that won’t do at all. He will drink himself stupid before long and not even notice it. As it stands he’s not entirely certain why it’s a bad idea even now.</p><p>        Oh but how he <em>hated</em> unfinished business. The load left behind by Odin was bad enough, now this … he could fly out to New York. He could. Not for long mind you, but enough to settle things once and for all. Because the devil of it was that she didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no, she only said goodbye.</p><p>   <em>     Goodbye Loki</em></p><p>
  <em>        Goodbye Della</em>
</p><p>        How was all he could think to say? Him of all people?</p><p>        Ah, but he was hung over and she was injured and they were both hurting and not thinking straight. So now he has this to deal with too.</p><p>        <em>Unacceptable</em></p><p>        He could call her – but this was not a phone conversation.</p><p>        He could go and see her – but his stupid, hurting, bitter, burning, self-cosseted heart was not up for crossing the Atlantic just to be told to fuck off. His prickly vanity and his sense of self-preservation could not stand the idea of it even if he knew it needed to be done.</p><p>        So what was left?</p><p>
  <em>        Ah, but of course - mischief</em>
</p><p>        Loki got to his feet and reached for his phone - three, four, five rings and then a very sleepy, borderline unconscious voice mumbled in his ear,</p><p>        “-ki? Wha’s goin’ on?”</p><p>        “Do you remember if the board's trip to the US was projected for 2020 or 2019 in the five year plan?”</p><p>        “Loki …” growled Thor murderously, “It’s 1am.”</p><p>        “Is it? Well, it’s 6am here, now that we are done telling each other fun facts - the board visit; 2020 or 2019?”</p><p>        “Are you insane?”</p><p>        “Yes, I thought that was well established. Please splash some cold water on yourself brother, you are not making any sense.”</p><p>        There was a sound of shifting of material in his ear and some noises and voices, no doubt darling Valkyrie protesting, then more shifting round, the sound of a door closing and finally a more awake Thor said, “Loki, what is going on?”</p><p>        “You may remember that in my more youthful and innocent days in university I became acquainted with a number of people who eventually found positions within the modern Conservative party.”</p><p>        “I may, though as is usually the case I request a minimum of details,” said Thor dryly.</p><p>        “Prude, very well, I was catching up with a few recently and they told me the most <em>alarming things</em> are happening in Downing Street…” Loki spun his tale like fish swim and birds fly – he pulled and shaped facts, rumours and conjecture he was privy to into the most pleasing positions. Any good story is really mostly the truth with just a pinch of the right kind of lie. In this case everything was true. He was actually concealing very little, only that slightly personal interest that was no one's business but his. When he was finished Thor was now firing on all cylinders which was not many, but it was better than nothing.</p><p>        “Do you really think it’s that bad?” he asked grimly.</p><p>        “No, I think it’s worse. People undersell all sorts of things in a fit of passion. I think it’s much, much worse. I think whatever mergers and acquisitions you have lined up need to happen soon. I think the boards needs to come to the US and talk business this year, this spring in fact.”</p><p>        There was a pause on the other end of the line.</p><p>        “The board needs to come to New York in the spring, do they?”</p><p>        <em>Ass</em></p><p>        “As it happens, yes I think they do!” snapped Loki back, “I would not be suggesting it if I did not think it prudent for the company. <em>Ass</em>.”</p><p>        “Yes, yes, very well," said Their soothingly. "I will pitch it at the meeting Monday and you’ll chime in with the grim prognostication?”</p><p>        “That probably is the best way to handle it. I will look over the budget to make sure we have the funds. Crakehall will back us up and Holloway has yet to turn down a free trip to any country with differently accented sex workers. That is four to three which is plenty to work with.”</p><p>         “It would take some time to plan this, several months perhaps, by” warned Thor. “If you ever simply need to visit you need not …”</p><p>         “Go back to sleep Thor," sighed Loki, "you are not making sense again.”</p><p>         “Let’s discuss this further in the morning then,” Thor's voice was wary and alarmed, “Loki, are you quite well?”</p><p>         “Yes, yes, it is morning here and I am going to go for a swim. You should return to bed. I will keep in touch." </p><p>         He hung up, yawned and rubbed his face and eyes. So tired. A cold shock to the system was probably not even a bad idea though having just drank three shots of whiskey on an empty stomach going swimming was probably inadvisable. </p><p>         Surely this was as good a time as any to start making good decisions. Grabbing an energy bar and some water Loki headed upstairs to take a cold shower. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I first wrote this story it had some different POVs but I found they were largely not needed and I liked having it from the first person. It was mostly little snips of interactions but this chapter which shows things from Loki's view kept growing and growing. I liked the idea of it but it is a jarring break because the rest of the characters are first person Della. In the end I quite liked a lot if the interactions, it sets up some stuff for a sequel I may write for this one day and it shows off Loki's corkscrew mind and logic. So I kept it in. <br/>*Shrug* <br/>Hope you like it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Facts and Figures.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        “So let me get this straight,” grumbled Loki around the third landing, “six floors and <em>no</em> elevator?”</p>
<p>        “This place was built in the 80s,” I shrugged, “everyone had cocaine then.”</p>
<p>        “How on earth did you move your things in?”</p>
<p>        “I had less stuff then," I said as we made it to the forth floor. "The real question is what am I going to do when I need to move out.”</p>
<p>        “And the answer to that is?” he asked.</p>
<p>        “Bribe every burly dude and gal I know with food,” I said simply. “Southern methods are ruthless but very efficient.”</p>
<p>        When we came up to the door I took out my keys, unlocked the door and then paused for a second without even realizing it.</p>
<p>        “What is it?” he asked.</p>
<p>        “I … it’s not very tidy,” I admitted sheepishly.</p>
<p>        Loki threw his head back and laughed.</p>
<p>        “You cannot be serious, darling.”</p>
<p>        “Don’t laugh,” I said with a huff, “your place was perfect!”</p>
<p>        “My place also has a cleaner." Pointed out Loki, "you may find it hard to believe, but I do not actually get up on a ladder with a bottle of Windolene every weekend and polish my loft windows.”</p>
<p>        “Good thing I’m home, I'm going to need a second pair of socks to replace the ones that just blew off!” I snarked, as I opened the door and walked through.</p>
<p>        I slipped out of my boots, threw my bag down by the door and shrugged out of my coat, when I turned I saw Loki eyeing the surroundings with a good deal of curiosity.</p>
<p>        “Well?” I asked, clearly expecting judgement.</p>
<p>        “Very nice, but where is the rest of it?”</p>
<p>        I had to reach up to flick at his ear and he chuckled at that. Then he slipped out of his pricey Oxford boots and walked through the front area and into the living room. It took me a second to really appreciate the slightly surreal quality of the sight.</p>
<p>        Loki was in my apartment.</p>
<p>       <em> Loki.</em></p>
<p>        I thought about him a lot in the last few months, but mostly naked and top of me for the purposes of getting off and then feeling guilty about it afterwards. Sometimes I replayed this or that conversation we had and kicked myself for not doing or saying something differently. However these were all recollections, reminiscings of a lonely and self-gnawing mind. I never once tried to picture how Loki would integrate into my current life. In part, because I never dreamed I would see him again, but also in part because I thought the very idea of him in it would be ridiculous.</p>
<p>        And yet there he was.</p>
<p>        And it was not as much of a ridiculous sight as I thought it would be.</p>
<p>        To give myself something to do I filled an electric kettle with water, took out some tea things and then went to where my "bedroom" was and grabbed a few things to change into.</p>
<p>        “I’m going to quickly wash up,” I told Loki as I headed into the bathroom, “I'll just be a few minutes, make yourself at home.”</p>
<p>        Loki nodded and as I closed the bathroom door I saw him drift towards the bookshelves.</p>
<p>        After stripping out of my dirty scrubs I threw them into the laundry hamper, washed my face with cold water and put on a clean pair of jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. I pulled the pins out of my hair, pulled apart my braid and for a while just stood before the mirror and scratched my scalp absentmindedly where the pull of the bun had been especially unforgiving.</p>
<p>        And tried to relax and calm myself down.</p>
<p>        <em>Why is he here?</em></p>
<p>        I shook my head and straightened up. What was the point of wandering when I could just go out there and ask.</p>
<p>        After running a brush through my hair a few times I tied it back loosely and went back to the living room.</p>
<p>        Loki was standing by my work desk near the window. The sun was close to setting and the windows were facing westward. In the orange glow of the evening sky Loki was a dark outline, casually leaning against the edge he was flipping through a first edition of Vonnegut’s <em>Cat’s Cradle</em>.</p>
<p>        “One of my luckier bookstore finds,” I said as I came closer.</p>
<p>        Loki nodded and neatly placed the book back on the shelf. His long fingers then slowly ran along the long line of book spines and stopped at a simple edition of <em>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</em> in a hard cover. He tapped on it twice, lightly, before saying:</p>
<p>         “I think this is your favorite book”</p>
<p>         “How come?” I asked quietly.</p>
<p>         “Because all other books on this shelf are rare first editions or valuable vintage books of some sort. This is just an old copy of a simple reprint. It is not excessively rare or valuable, so it must have sentimental value. Probably a gift from someone important to you - I would guess your father.”</p>
<p>         “Something like that,” I said quietly without meeting his eyes.</p>
<p>         Loki nodded and then turned away to look at the books some more.</p>
<p>         “The name of my adoptive mother was Frigga, the name of my birth mother was Faye. It is true that I do not know your mother’s name, but I could guess. Something a little traditional - Agatha? Katherine? Caroline?”</p>
<p>         “Cora – actually, but her mother was actually named Caroline,” I paused. “What’s your point?”</p>
<p>         “That the reason you gave me for giving up on us was foolish from the start,” he said bluntly. “We enjoy each other's company, we care for each other, we make each other laugh, we have many things in common. Yes, in some ways we do not know about each other very much, but that is why people <em>enter into relationships</em>. To get to know each other <em>better</em>. If you didn't want to do that because it would mean having a long-distance relationship and you’ve been hurt by one before and not keen on trying it again - that would have been fine. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would deal with rejection and I would understand. Instead you lied to yourself and lied to me. Instead you convinced yourself <em>and</em> me that our feelings for each other were not real. And that <em>fucking hurt</em>. It hurt on par with being cut out of a Masaratti while still conscious! I spent three months being miserable, missing you, doubting my own thoughts and feelings, doubting everything! I started to drink more, I had trouble sleeping, I ... ” Loki's thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was shaking off a sudden headache.</p>
<p>         "It was a bad way to leave things Della," he said finally and very quietly. "And you shouldn't have done it like that and I shouldn't have let you."</p>
<p>
  <em>         Damn. I haven’t been this called out since roll call during school attendance.</em>
</p>
<p>         I slipped to the edge of the armchair with a sigh, suddenly feeling very tired and stripped bare to the bone.</p>
<p>         “Well argued, your honor," I said simply, "I plead guilty.”</p>
<p>         “Huh?” Loki suddenly looked very taken aback.</p>
<p>         “I said, you’re right. Of course you're right. I’m sorry that I made you feel like shit, but if it helps you any, I made me feel like shit too. These last three months were miserable.”</p>
<p>         “Oh,” there was a sudden pause, as if, for once, Loki was at a loss for words.</p>
<p>         “Did you expect more of a fight?” I asked with a smile.</p>
<p>         “To be honest, yes I ... rather did.”</p>
<p>         “Did you have a whole case prepared? Do you want me to get defensive and irrationally stubborn anyway? Did you bring slides? Do you want me to set up a projector somewhe...”</p>
<p>         Suddenly Loki bridged the gap between us in a few long, confident steps. He leaned in, his fingers slipped under my chin and tilted my face up. For just one moment I saw his face close to mine - his brilliant blue green eyes were the color of stormy seas and intense, so intense. Then his lips captured mine. It was a good kiss, long and passionate and yet somehow also tender. When we broke apart he whispered to me in the gathering darkness, lips still grazing mine:</p>
<p>        “I love you,” he said it simply and quietly, but his voice was vibrating with emotion barely contained by the cool façade. “I've been in love with you for a long, long time. I don't know how long. You ... you snuck up on me and I didn't want it, this emotion, this dependency, this need for another, I didn't want it but it's here now and to ignore it would be insanity. That is my honest truth, and athough I am not known for giving it often myself I need you to tell me honestly what you feel in return.”</p>
<p>        His hand slipped to the back of my neck and pulled me closer to him.</p>
<p>        Try as I might, I could not hear him breathe.</p>
<p>        “Loki, of course I love you," I whispered back against the material of his shirt and it was as if I was whispering words <em>into</em> him - an oath, a promise, a fact, a truth, a spell - "It was never about not loving you, it was literally about everything else but that.”</p>
<p>        My hands were on his shoulders, clutching him close and I felt him sag against me for only a second.</p>
<p>        And then I was off my feet as he pulled me up we were kissing again and it was the nearest thing to heaven. Our admission to each other didn’t solve anything, it didn’t make anything more convenient or more realistic or more practical. It didn’t make things easier and yet I was so freed by it and so stupidly happy with it I felt as though I was floating.</p>
<p>        Of course, that may have been because, before I knew it, Loki lifted me and the benefits of a small studio apartment revealed themselves when only a few steps were necessary for us to fall into my poorly made bed. I fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt and clawed at the tie until both fell to the floor in a heap and I could finally run my hands along the fine, well defined muscles of his back and plunge my fingers into his silky dark hair. Loki's smooth skin, no longer constrained by binding - no longer hurt or bruised - shattered something in me. The last vestiges of me seeing him as a patient evaporated, dissipated into the ether. He still had scars and he would always carry them. No amount of mental gymnastics could ever undo the past, in which it was my job to take care of him when we first slept together and when we fell in love. But from that moment forward I finally stopped thinking of Loki as a patient, I could only see him as a lover.</p>
<p>         I bit the skin around his lovely and once injured collarbone, just a little, as my lips gently worshiped him. We kept kissing, fumbling, kissing again and I wanted to laugh at the mad urgency of it, at how suddenly all the clothes needed to be off or we would either explode or expire, I don't know which. Loki's long, exact fingers stripped me bare in seconds and I arched towards him and clutched him by the shoulders to bring myself closer, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against mine as much as possible. I gasped and shuddered when I felt his erection grind against me. His hands squeezed my ass, bringing me close against his body and I groaned as his teeth nipped at the shell of my ear. </p>
<p>        And then from his waist down he became motionless and merciless, his mouth and hands still working me, clearly intent on drawing out the process for some ungodly amount of time.</p>
<p>        “Fuck me, oh god fuck me right the hell <em>now</em>!” I hissed through clenched teeth.</p>
<p>        “Why darling,” smiled Loki against me as his fingers slipped between my legs and plunged into me, “how very unromantic of you!”</p>
<p>        “Do as you’re told for once in your life, damn you!” I commanded or maybe begged or maybe both.</p>
<p>        It was too much, I couldn't put it into words, I just needed him in me. Nothing else would suffice. It was stupid and horny and irrational but in the semi darkness our eyes met and I knew then that it was just as true for me as it was for him.</p>
<p>        "Just this once," he whispered.</p>
<p>        Grasping me with both hands on either side of my rib cage Loki pushed me up higher onto the bed and in a continuation of that movement crawled over me and delved into me and I howled at the perverse mix of pain and pleasure I was assaulted by. He positioned my legs over his chest and shoulders and plunged again and again and bit and kissed the skin just below the knees. The position, the teasing, the tender touch mixed with the brutal pace of the thrusting liquefied my nervous system. I was delirious with pleasure as climax after climax racked my body and Loki allowed me to recover from none of them. We tumbled on the bed and battled for supremacy, first he was on top for a time, then I, then him again. Finally, I climbed on top of him and rode his hips frantically over and over again until in the semi-darkness of the room I felt his release. His hair was strewn on my lilac sheets, his head was thrown back and his eyes scrunched up. The long pale column of his throat was before me and I kissed it lazily after collapsing on top of him as we both came down from our high.</p>
<p>        Afterwards I moved only a little, only to shift my body weight to the side. Despite how overheated we were and how much of a mess - we didn’t move. I continued to lie almost entirely on top of Loki, my hands still on his shoulders, my head resting on his chest. I could feel the staccato beating of his heart, as well as my own ringing in my ears. Loki's hands wound around my waist and the fingers of his right arm ran up and down my spine absentmindedly, an achingly familiar gesture that I desperately missed. His eyes were closed, his eyelashes - long and dark - contrasted starkly with his pale skin like soot on snow.</p>
<p>        As we lay in silence, evening descended on the city, but New York being New York no true darkness fell. The light from a million sources filtered through the window and refracted in the glass tiles of the bedroom partition, sending small dots of light all through the apartment and, in particular, to the ceiling above us.</p>
<p>        “What do we do now?” I asked finally.</p>
<p>        “Well …” Loki cleared his throat and one long arm reached to pull a sheet over us. “I will need some water and maybe about half an hour but afterwards I was thinking of bending you over that armchair.”</p>
<p>        I swatted at him playfully even as something deep down in me clenched at the mental image his words presented.</p>
<p>        “Fun as that is, you know that’s not what I meant.”</p>
<p>        “I don’t want to lose you again,” he replied simply. “I don’t want another day like the past several months have been. Nothing but a never ending mountain of work, frustrating wanks, awful hookups and loads of food in the freezer I could not bring myself to eat because you made it.” He glanced down at me and the corner of his mouth twitched in a hint of smile, “although I appreciated the gesture,” he added.</p>
<p>        “So long distance then?” There was a hint of sadness in my voice that I couldn’t quite extract. Loki must have felt it because he looked down again and the fingers of his hand stroked my cheek gently.</p>
<p>        “I am not him, you are not who you were some three years ago.”</p>
<p>        “I know,” I sighed, “but even if everything goes really, really well it will still be difficult, we’ll still barely see each other. I'm not saying we shouldn’t try - I’m just anxious.” After a small pause I added, “by the way, I’m not so up my own ass to think you crossed the Atlantic just to make love to me, so why are you here?”</p>
<p>        Loki's arms snaked back around me and held me tight, "you do not think I could cross an ocean just to see you?" he smiled mischievously.</p>
<p>        "Oh I know you could and you did," I laughed, "but I also know you never have just one reason for anything."</p>
<p>        “Ehehe, well <em>officially</em>, I’m here with the rest of the board of directors to visit the American offices and discuss a planned acquisition of a local IT company. It would really count against me to take time off work after so long an absence. You may find it surprising but not everyone on the board loves my open and cuddly personality. Meanwhile, Thor and I have been leaning the company to expand into non manufacturing fields for some time. A number of meetings with possible interested parties have been set up on the quiet. The original plan was to travel here in March of next year but I <em>gently persuaded</em> the board into thinking that due to the most recent political happenings in the UK it would be better to diversify our business overseas sooner rather than later. Which, for the record, it absolutely would be.”</p>
<p>        “So you played on their fears of a no deal Brexit to score a free trip to New York?" I asked laughing.</p>
<p>        Loki raised his eyebrows at me, making me giggle.</p>
<p>        “Americans do read the news about other countries, you know," I said and then asked, "you expect the worst then?"</p>
<p>        “I was expecting the worst three years ago, when the referendum results were first announced. Everyone <em>then</em> said I was being pessimistic. Thor, on the quiet, has been feeling for mergers ever since he got here and as the news in London got worse and worse and some board members began to panic and we managed to nudge the majority just enough to start looking into other options. Very soon it will become highly beneficial to deal in any product that does not require to be physically transported to and from the island. So we purchased a decently sized Irish IT company last year and an American one whoul not hurt right now either. Consulting, programming, digital drafting, regulatory work - we have options, but we need to act fast.”</p>
<p>        “So how long are you here for?”</p>
<p>        “Five more days, I arrived yesterday but I could not come see you right away. And I have to be back in my hotel by 11am tomorrow for an informal meeting.”</p>
<p>        There was real regret in his voice, I ran the tips of my fingers across the cool skin of his chest and across scars from his injuries.</p>
<p>        “I suppose your hotel is in Manhattan somewhere,” I sighed.</p>
<p>        “Ahem, actually we are all staying at the Z NYC, which is a twenty minute walk from here,” said Loki, smile tugging up at the corner of his mouth.</p>
<p>        “Well that is certainly an interesting coincidence!” I laughed.</p>
<p>        “Indeed, though not of my making, I have no knowledge of this blasted city so I did not plan the minutia of this trip,” said Loki and then added with a sigh, “Thor did.”</p>
<p>         I buried my face in the crook of Loki's and smiled, “newlyweds are such romantics.”</p>
<p>        “Ugh, he will be absolutely <em>unbearable</em> when he finds out.”</p>
<p>        “What's it like being around someone like that, I wonder?" I giggled, "Did he give you my address too?”</p>
<p>        “Oh no, that would be quite unlike him and anyway, I always knew your address. You may have no memory of this, but you said it when I was in the room. It was one of the questions the nurse kept asking you when she was trying to gauge the extent of your concussion.”</p>
<p>        “Oh yea ...” my hand reached automatically to rub at the back of my head, where I still got headaches sometimes. “You know, as time goes by, I remember the whole thing less and less clearly. Was it ... really bad?”</p>
<p>        “It was not sight I would like to be subjected to again,” Loki said as his arms momentarily tightened around me. “Objectively speaking - you were not bleeding and nothing was evidently broken - but it was very upsetting to see you so out of it when in the usual state of things you are extremely controlled. I had to dump cold water on you just to see your mask of professionalism slip a little, but after the fall you were so agitated, trying to get up, talking all sorts of disjointed and nonsensical things. I feared ... there was much I feared ... and so very little I could do. I hate it when I am given no options, as you may have noticed." </p>
<p>         He laughed a little rueful laugh.</p>
<p>         "Oh! A second moment of genuine self evaluation in six months!" I laughed.</p>
<p>         "I spoil those I love," he replied tartly. "Anyway, while you lay in that blasted bed concussed with twigs and mud in your hair, you also let something slip that confirmed to Thor that we had gotten involved in some way and after that there was just no shaking him. The clueless fool was then struck down with a severe fit of honorable-ness, as he constantly does.”</p>
<p>        “He felt responsible, I get that and incidentally appreciate it very much - I was his employee after all. Do try to be nice.”</p>
<p>        "Never," said Loki is dramatic emphasis.</p>
<p>        I scoffed and then signed, as nice as it was to lie on top of Loki it was also getting a little uncomfortable, so I shifted the sheets and shimmied off the bed. Loki made a noise of protest and I laughed, “I’ll be back in a few minutes and I’ll bring you something to clean up too”</p>
<p>        “I fear your sheets are a lost cause regardless,” he mumbled and he threw his arm over his eyes as I turned on the bedside light, wrapped myself in a loose sheet and padded to the bathroom to clean up a little.</p>
<p>        When I came back Loki was sitting up, still very distractedly nude, on the edge of my bed blinking like an owl.</p>
<p>        He suddenly looked very, very tired.</p>
<p>        “Loki,” I asked as I kneeled in front of him, “when was the last time you slept?”</p>
<p>        “Last night” he shrugged. His brilliant blue-green eyes were glassy.</p>
<p>        “For how long? Cause I know you didn’t sleep on the plane and with the time difference you probably didn't sleep much since then.”</p>
<p>        He grumbled something uncharitable.</p>
<p>        “Come on,” I smiled as I pushed him back onto the bed and pulled a blanket over him, “sleep at least a little while you are here.”</p>
<p>        “But I was gonna fuck you sideways …” Loki wined piteously while half asleep.</p>
<p>        “No one is vetoing the fucking, I promise” I reassured him jokingly as I turned off the lights. “Do I need to sit with you and hold your hand until you nod off?”</p>
<p>        “No,” mumbled Loki and yawned like a cat.</p>
<p>        There was something endearing about that, I kissed his cheek, turned off the lights and fussed with the covers a little to make sure he was comfortable. When I looked up again, Loki was fast asleep. I played with his hair a little, just because I loved the silky feeling of it between my fingers, then I found some clothes for myself and left him to get some rest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Past, Present and Future.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really, really hoped to post this whole story without significant breaks but 'twas not to be it seem.<br/>I'm so sorry for the delay in the updates so close to the end. <br/>Please enjoy and let me know what you think - this is a long one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Loki didn’t sleep long, only a few hours, but he slept very soundly, without moving and his breathing was very quiet and even. He must have been very tired indeed.</p>
<p>        While he was stretched out on the bed unconscious I had time to unpack my work bag and take stock of the somewhat meager contents of the fridge. Yes, we could always order something but for some reason I wanted to make food even though my options were a little limited. In the end I managed a salad and a few different sandwiches. I prepared everything for tea, got some emergency chocolates from the Secret Emergency Sweets Drawer, then curled up on the couch and texted Natasha that I was not going to go out tomorrow after all. For one thing, odds were I would be either too busy or too tired, for another Nat would smell the hot gossip on me and prey on me like some kind of rumor spider.</p>
<p>        All I got back from her was a Mean Girls .gif saying “Boo, you whore!” which was fair enough.</p>
<p>        <em>I would have to tell her eventually,</em> I supposed idly, <em>I would have to tell a number of close friends</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>        I would have to tell my mother.</em>
</p>
<p>        There was a chilling thought to stew in. Thankfully, not long after I heard rustling and my bedside light flickered on again. Through the glass partition the amber glow was warm and inviting - I came around and stopped to take in the sight of Loki sitting up in my bed. His usually flawless hair was, while still flawless, slightly sticking out on one side. Our eyes met for a moment, a very silly moment, it was as if we didn't know what to say to each other, but then it passed. Loki placed his elbows on his knees and looked around, his gaze traveled to assembled IKEA units of shelves, racks and drawers across from the bed.</p>
<p>        “Did you end up keeping the clothes?” he asked mildly.</p>
<p>        “The coat and bag and shoes are in storage boxes under the bed,” I replied as I sat down on the bed next to him. “I sold the dress. Around Christmas time. I used the money to go away to Georgia for a few weeks and see my mother.”</p>
<p>        “Is your pay so low that you needed to do that?”</p>
<p>        “No, not at all, but growing up with Paul made me frugal,” one of my hands traveled up his arm and to his neck. I felt the muscle tense up there and my thumb soothed it almost automatically, “I suppose the truth is I was trying to prove to myself that I could. That it didn't matter to me. That I didn't feel anything and therefore could part with things you gave me easily."</p>
<p>        I smiled sheepishly and asked, "do you mind that I sold it?”</p>
<p>        “No. They were gifts, you were free to do with them what you will, I was only curious.” He sighed and said with a resigned sort of humor, "I suppose you chose the more dignifying and less exhausting way of trying to assure yourself of your own indifference. I nearly threw my back out in a fit of ill-conceived carnality with an old acquaintance ... among other things."</p>
<p>        "And people ..." I guessed.</p>
<p>        "And people," Loki conceded, then looked up at me and his blue eyes were defensive and defiant all at once. "This is how I am, you know."</p>
<p>        "Oh yes," I smiled, "I know."</p>
<p>        Loki's face lit up by a vulpine smile.</p>
<p>        "Alas I will never have the pleasure of stripping you of that dress," his hands slipped around my waist. “When I returned to England I realized that I do not even own a single photo of you. And you have no social media.”</p>
<p>        “I actually do, but with a job like mine in a city like this which a step-dad like Paul, I assure you it is very well hidden. And anyway your editor friend made sure there were at least two photos of us available.”</p>
<p>        A frustrated growl left Loki’s lungs at that and I smiled and kissed his right temple.</p>
<p>        “I’ll link you my Instagram account,” I promised.</p>
<p>        Loki's hands went to the belt of my robe and pulled lightly. The knot slipped undone and his hands traveled around me, pulled me towards him until he fell backwards and I on top of him. In the position we were in, his lips were just level with my chest and I moaned as I felt him kiss my breastbone. My hands clutched at his hair as his teeth left light bite marks on my skin.</p>
<p>        “Where do you find the stamina?” I mumbled between gasps.</p>
<p>        “I have been rather lonely in the last few month, despite the company I, at times kept,” he grumbled and ran his nails along my naked back from the shoulders down to the waist in a deliciously slow, slightly painful path, “what a pity we don’t have any rope.”</p>
<p>        “The robe’s got a belt, don’t it?”</p>
<p>        The words came out automatically, before I really gave them much thought. I felt Loki halt for just a fraction of a second and then he chuckled darkly and glanced up at me. The sight of his blue-green eyes, so mischievous and so alive looking up at me from my own bed was an aphrodisiac in it’s own right. In one fluid motion Loki rolled me and I landed on my back with a shriek of laughter. Kneeling, he straddled my legs and I felt the belt slide out from underneath me and wind around my wrists - binding them together. It was long enough that one end of it trailed from the knot between my wrists for a good few feet like a lead on which Loki pulled just enough to get me to a sitting position. He slipped off me and off the bed and sat on his haunches on the floor before me. Although I was the one tied up, he was looking up at me with a gentle sort of reassuring look in his eyes.</p>
<p>        “If you tell me to Stop …” he began.</p>
<p>        “You will stop,” I finished for him confidently.</p>
<p>        “Good girl,” he purred and his whole demeanor switched, like it did once before, "my good little pet."</p>
<p>        He stood to full height - tall and pale and nude and hard - and yanked me forward, off the bed and into the living room.</p>
<p>        As promised, I ended up with my knees on the seat of my armchair. My bound hands clutched it’s low back, one of Loki's long, delicate, merciless hands was at my waist, holding me steady as he fucked me from behind. The other was at the base of my neck, forcing me to look down, down my own naked body which shuddered with each thrust. He fucked me brutally and profoundly but so, so inconsistently. Each thrust was divine but every time my knees began to shake and the wave of climax began to approach that precise hand at my waist would deliver a painful, echoing slap - <em>somewhere</em>. It was impossible to know where it exactly it would land and make no mistake, it <em>hurt</em>. The sting was not enough to injure but it interrupted each and every one of my nearing orgasms and for the first time since I started living in this apartment I really did wonder for a microsecond what the neighbors might think. A litany of groaning and howling obscenities flowed from me; I cursed Loki and praised him, I swore and railed and yet pleaded with him to keep going. Then, after what felt like an eternity of edging he placed two hands on my shoulders and ran his sharp nails down my back and to my thighs, ten lines that felt like sensuous fire over aching skin. I shot up, back arched, hands still tied together and his arms snaked around me and found my breasts. He trapped a hard nipple between two fingers of each of his hands and pulled eliciting a scream of elation from me.</p>
<p>         "My poor little pet, so lonely without me," he crooned and kissed my shoulder gently, while his hands and the rest of him, still cruelly teased me. "I'm not feeling <em>excessively</em> cruel at this moment, so perhaps if you ask very, <em>very</em> nicely I will let you come before me just. this. once."</p>
<p>         Each of the last three words were accompanied by a sharp pull of his fingers and a deep, aching thrust.</p>
<p>         "Please-please-pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..." I must have lost my mind, I could think of nothing else to say, nothing else seemed like it was important or relevant or even existed in the English language.</p>
<p>         "Oh I will teach you to plead better pet, and quite soon, but for now ..." the voice was so calm and clinical and detached.</p>
<p>         Loki pushed me back over again but now his body curved alongside mine, his chest was flush against my back, his mouth against my ear, his right hand slipped between my legs and circled by clit almost lazily and that tiny gesture along with the shift in our positions while he was still in me set me off and this time he didn't stop me. I ground against him automatically, mindlessly and peaked with a shaking release that went on and on. Loki didn’t give me a lot of time to float down from that euphoria, instead he turned me around and slipped my bound hands over his head so that my wrists were just over the nape of his neck and my arms rested against his shoulders. Propped up against my own tiny work desk, one of my legs was on the seat of the chair and Loki held the other at the knee, and I was trapped as he plunged into me again and again. I could see now his long, elegant, tense neck and his hair slightly damp with sweat and his mouth as it placed haphazard kisses and bites on my shoulders. I floated, drunk on the pleasure, urging him on, pulling him into myself with my hips and my legs as much as I could.</p>
<p>         “Do you think people across the street can see us, pet?” whispered Loki in between the sharp thrusts. “Do you think they can see this lovely naked back?”</p>
<p>         His hand slipped into my hair and pulled it hard to one side.</p>
<p>         “Do you think they can see your lovely face?”</p>
<p>         <em>Oh god</em>, the pain from the pulled hair, the ache at the wrists, the climbing pleasure brought on by the sharp movements of his hips, his words in my ear, the very real possibility of being seen, it was all so much, too much... </p>
<p>         "No," Loki stopped suddenly and quite casually, still his hand was plunged in my hair and he tilted my face towards him. His eyes were relentless, amused and just a little mean, "I did not say you could."</p>
<p>         "You fuck-shit!" I gasped, my legs twitching, wrapping around him, trying to get him to move, to return to the cruel and blissful pace.</p>
<p>         <em>Slap</em></p>
<p>         A hard hand landed on my right thigh and I shrieked.</p>
<p>         "Rude," said Loki simply.</p>
<p>         I laughed then, I couldn't help it and he was surprised by it. His eyes became his own again, the character slipped and so did mine.</p>
<p>         "I said what I said," I whispered to him "you're an ass."</p>
<p>         "Oh yes," his hand reached up and pulled on the knot around my wrists and it slipped undone easily. Loki then picked me up and we once again tumbled into the now very messy bed. As I laid on my back he towered over me, caged me with his body, long pale arms on either side of me, "I am simply awful."</p>
<p>         He started making love to me then, slowly and passionately and tenderly. His fingers carefully soothed the skin on my thighs and my ass, his mouth kissed my breasts sweetly and I wanted to cry because it was the reverse but it felt just as good. My fingers plunged into Loki's glorious mane and as I pulled him towards me I heard him whisper against my skin,</p>
<p>         "One day I will tie you to a bed naked and cruelly mistreat you for a day and a night all the while feeding you your most beloved food by hand. One day I will take you to a cottage in France and we will swim naked in the pool and walk the length of the pristine sandy beach and then fuck in a bed with the windows thrown open for all to hear until dawn. I will read to you in the night until you fall asleep, wash your hair after a long day, arrange for any pleasure you desire..."</p>
<p>         I was going to come, very soon, and so was Loki, his face was close to mine now and he kept whispering secrets of his soul to me as as he continued to give me pleasure.</p>
<p>         "But Della, I am a cruel and vain ass and I always will be and one day I will hurt you terribly," he groaned, "I am scared to death of that day."</p>
<p>         His hands were tight around me - claustrophobically tight. Mine were tight around him - claustrophobically tight. I pulled him to me, we kissed and fell into the blissful abyss together.</p>
<p>         Afterwards we stayed in that position for a long, long time before I finally said, "I think you should go to therapy."</p>
<p>         "Darling, you say the most romantic things to me in bed," mumbled Loki back, his eyes closed.</p>
<p>         "I'm serious."</p>
<p>         "Of course you are," he signed, sat up and pulled me into a sitting position as well. "Let me see those wrists," his fingers delicately traced the places where the satin belt had marked the skin red. "It should not bruise," he said matter-of-factly as he gently massaged my right forearm, "it was quite fortunate that you were not wearing a terry-cloth robe..."</p>
<p>         "Loki ..." I said quietly but firmly, he wouldn't look up to meet my eyes, "you cannot <em>possibly</em> think you don't need it."</p>
<p>         That earned me a glare, he switched to my left arm but still said nothing.</p>
<p>         "Please, please at least think about it."</p>
<p>         He held up my hands and kissed each of the prominent ulnar wrist bones in turn and said with a devious smile, "very well, since that was quite an improvement on the begging, I will <em>think</em> about it."</p>
<p>         I flicked at his ear in annoyance and he chucked at that outright.</p>
<p>         "Why do I get the feeling that in this relationship that counts as a resounding win on my part?" I grumbled.</p>
<p>         Loki's eyes met mine and the expression shifted into something more genuine and more vulnerable.</p>
<p>         "What?" I asked, confused.</p>
<p>         "Look at us, suddenly <em>in this relationship," </em>he said sheepishly, "just like that?"</p>
<p>         "Yea," I grinned, "just like that."</p>
<p>         We stared at each other for a few seconds, just reveling in the fact that we could, that neither of us felt like they had to look away.</p>
<p>         "Hungry?" I asked finally.</p>
<p>         "Starving," replied Loki.</p>
<p>         We got to our feet and after cleaning up I found my pajamas and started putting them on while Loki watched me with wry amusement without a stitch on.</p>
<p>         “Serves me right for not planning this better," he said lightly. "Had I known our meeting would end in copious amounts of sex I’d have packed an overnight bag.”</p>
<p>         “Again, comforting to know this was not part of some grand seductive plan,” I snorted. Then a thought struck me and after rummaging through one of my storage boxes beneath the bed I produced an extra large, white, CK shirt, washed and neatly folded. “This is all I can give you on short notice. You’ll have to wear the dress pants or just saunter around in boxers.”</p>
<p>        "How undignified ..." said Loki absentmindedly, as he frowned at the shirt for a moment before realizing what it was, when he did he barked out a laugh, “why darling, you kept it all this time? What sentiment!"</p>
<p>        A blush crept up my neck and engulfed my face for some stupid reason.</p>
<p>        “Yea well, I just sort of … couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it after everything that happened.”</p>
<p>        Loki smiled knowingly at that.</p>
<p>        “What?” I asked, suspicious.</p>
<p>        He thought for a moment but then shook his head.</p>
<p>        “Not yet,” he said and pulled the shirt on.</p>
<p>        It was still far too big on him but it was better than nothing. Although, admittedly, far less enticing than nothing. After getting dressed I made tea and we settled on the couch to eat. It was now well on it's way to midnight.</p>
<p>        “You know, this is really very nice” said Loki after taking a sip from one of a pair of very nice cups I usually kept stowed away.</p>
<p>        “Oh, I always keep some nice tea in the house,” I said proudly.</p>
<p>        “In case The Queen visits?”</p>
<p>        “Close. In case my mother does.”</p>
<p>        Loki laughed at that and we ate in silence a bit more - he kept looking at the long wall of shelves that lasted the length of my apartment.</p>
<p>        “What did I get wrong about the book?” he asked finally. “You said my guess was 'close enough', so what was wrong?”</p>
<p>        “Ah yes, it was actually my grandfathers'. I don't have much memories of him but I remember him saying it was his favorite book, I think he was a fan of horror," I said and then added casually “he told me he bought it at a posh bookshop in downtown Savannah - after they had to take down "WHITES ONLY" sign.”</p>
<p>        “I wonder about that,” said Loki just as casually. “But there is no polite way of asking such a thing of a lady.”</p>
<p>        “Certainly not while she's massaging your legs back to life, though let me tell you quite a few people still do, so I appreciate that you didn't,” I said. “But yes, my dad's dad - Grandpa Joe - was black but he ended up marrying my grandmother, who was Puerto Rican.”</p>
<p>        “So your father was half African American and half Hispanic?”</p>
<p>        “Yep.”</p>
<p>        “And your mother is …”</p>
<p>        “Not.”</p>
<p>        “Ah, and how did that go over?”</p>
<p>        “In Georgia in the 70s and 80s? Apparently not great. Though through Grandma Mariana the family did end up Catholic, and that did help <em>a bit</em> since my mother’s family were all strongly Roman Catholic as well. Still <em>grandmere</em> Caro was in quite the strop over the whole thing. She's dead now, mom put a nice gravestone over her, but never visits. Even though dad and her are buried in the same cemetery and quite close together. Funny that.”</p>
<p>        "Was she actually French?"</p>
<p>        "Honestly probably not, I think they just really liked to pretend they were. Someday maybe I'll get one of those ancestry accounts and find out for sure, but as of right now I'm not too tempted."</p>
<p>        Loki leaned back on the couch and I curled up against him and rested by head on his shoulder. His fingers traced up my neck and gently massaged the back of my head. For a some time there was a comfortable silence and then he said, "I traced my biological parents.”</p>
<p>        I stilled, “and?”</p>
<p>        "Turns out my mother was Icelandic,” said Loki quietly, “which partly explains why no family could be found to take me in England.”</p>
<p>        “Did you find any living relatives?”</p>
<p>        “Some, but all very, very distantly related, none of her immediate family survived. Her father drowned when she was young and her mother died of what was likely a cancer of some sort when she was in her early 20s. After that she moved to England to find work.”</p>
<p>        “And your dad?”</p>
<p>        “He was from the North of England, his father was killed during the Blitz and his mother developed some kind of dementia and she was the one in the rest home by the time I was born. Both my parents were only children.” He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone, after unlocking it he fiddled with it for a while and then passed it to me, while saying, “these are the only photos of either of them that the agency could find.”</p>
<p>        I took the phone gently and looked at the scans of old photographs, reproduced on the high tech digital screen.</p>
<p>        Both were passport photographs from what looked to be the 1980s. Faye Nal wore flashy green-and-gold hoop earrings and had very blond straight locks with thick heavy bangs, but once you looked beyond that, much of Loki’s actual facial features clearly came from her. In particular they shared the haunting blue-green eyes, straight nose and delicate mouth. Frederick Richard Bauti Laufeyson, meanwhile, shared with Loki the same divinely sculpted jawline, slight widow's peak, broad forehead, high cheekbones and dark, dark hair, though his was cut very short. Laufeyson was perhaps too severe to be conventionally handsome by today's standards but the perfect angularity of his face was striking and magnetic and it was that angularity that Loki inherited but that his mother's features softened, but a touch, to make them achingly beautiful. I was no geneticist, but it seemed obvious that he was indeed their child.</p>
<p>        “When I first saw Thor's wedding photo in his office I noted that you don't look very much alike but thought at least you shared the eye color,” I said as I passed the cell phone back to Loki. “But of course that's not true, I see that now, yours have green in them but Thor's are entirely blue.”</p>
<p>        “Yes, Thor always looked like Odin, they both shared the same blue eyes, though Odin's always seemed much colder. I might have suspected something but for Hela, whose natural hair color was always far darker than either of her parents. She also had hazel eyes. I paid enough attention in biology to know that genetics can be quite murky in terms of who gets what from whom, so I never thought anything of the differences between all the Odinson siblings.”</p>
<p>        "Were you glad to find information on your biological parents?"</p>
<p>        "Glad is perhaps the wrong word," sighed Loki. "To be honest, I looked for them because I felt that I should, but having found them I feel very little. They are strangers to me. Obviously they provided the DNA that made me, but after being raised an Odinson for my entire life how can I know what is theirs and what is not? How much of the way I am comes from the basic biology and how much comes from the way I was raised?</p>
<p>        "Nature vs. nurture - that old chestnut," I hummed and then added. "Does it matter?"</p>
<p>        "Would that I could say no and move on with my life ..." Loki murmured. His fingers were still rubbing gently at the nape of my neck, he seemed lost in thought. </p>
<p>        "Is it because you think they treated you differently?" I ventured.</p>
<p>        "I do not believe my mother treated any of us excessively differently, Odin however ..." he signed. "The truth is that Odin always favored Thor over me, but he favored him over Hela as well. And mind you, this is a fact that even Thor will not deny. He even learned to dislike it eventually."</p>
<p>        "So why Thor?"</p>
<p>        "Oh who knows? Vanity? Thor physically resembled Odin the most and, though a genius Odin was also extremely vain and narcissistic. He seemed to love the most the child that reminded him of himself. With his oldest daughter he tried hard to mold her into his own image and at that he failed spectacularly. Hela is just as narcissistic as he is, although she bests him by the virtue of knowing the truth about herself. And so she is unapologetic in her selfishness where as Odin always has tried to frame it as some virtue or bit of cleverness."</p>
<p>        “And you? The third child?”</p>
<p>        “I tried so hard to be worthy of him." Loki sighed and sounded so, so tired. "I tried too hard to be what he wanted and what he needed and I always felt like I failed at it. Perhaps a true inheritor of Odin's should not have needed to try at all. We never had enough in common, we never saw eye-to-eye and even when my ideas were better from a logical standpoint, Thor’s always were seen as best. As soon as I realized this there was no saving our brotherly relationship and as a result, for most of our teenage years and well into young adulthood, we were at each other's throats. It could have been worse I suppose, on advise of our mother we picked different universities and studied different fields. Thor studied Finance at Oxford while I read law and dabbled in classics and debauchery at Cambridge, it was a good idea for a number of practical reasons but long term it made us valuable to each other as partners while giving us something to excel at without competition. So the smartest business decision in Odin's business came down to something mother cajoled him into. How typical." </p>
<p>       "So it was after university you started to get along?"</p>
<p>       "Oh no, no. The first years working under father was nightmare, mother was dead by then and without her to moderate the three of us we were literally at each other’s throats.”</p>
<p>        “Literally? You mean figuratively, right?”</p>
<p>        Loki just sort of smiled at that.</p>
<p>        “Jesus,” I shook my head. “You’re not on so bad a terms now.”</p>
<p>        “Even my oaf of a brother eventually understood the downside to being so thrust into the spotlight. If I could never measure up to father’s expectations, he was under constant pressure to be an immediate and constant success. He was always expected to make the right call, the price of failure for him was high - few people dared to question him but everyone was quite happy to settle him with the most consequential decisions. Combined with this came the our joint realization that Odin's mind was not what it was. He hid it well, but eventually both of us came to understand that the person who's approval we crave is simply not there anymore. As Odin’s health declined Thor came to trust me more since he knew I would tear apart any idea of his without a second of hesitation. In return I got a friendly ear at the table. And from that, a very uneasy alliance was formed, though not without quite a lot of arguing.”</p>
<p>        “A lot of what I know of Thor makes sense when you consider this background,” I said thoughtfully.</p>
<p>        “That he lived in the middle of a New England forest with a literal warrior woman and despises all office culture and politics?”</p>
<p>        “That,” I agreed, “but also that the questions himself a lot, but also hides it <em>really</em> well.”</p>
<p>        “Not well enough for you, apparently," grinned Loki.</p>
<p>        “All medical careers are in part about reading people," I shrugged. "It’s not in the job description but it might as well be. When did you father’s health begin to decline?”</p>
<p>        “Oh, over ten years before his death I think, but so gradually that it took us a long, long time to notice. Because of how uncommunicative he could be it, how eccentric, how impatient, it was difficult to really tell anything was wrong.”</p>
<p>        “What was it in the end?”</p>
<p>        “Parkinson’s, which eventually progressed to dementia. As his health declined, he gradually withdrew first from business, then from public eye and eventually just into himself. It was a sick sort of irony - we were no longer under his constant attention and instead he had become constantly under ours. As he got weaker and more ill, the power dynamic shifted and we were now able to divide our duties more according to our skills and talents. Then one of Thor’s truly good ideas came along, we had been doing business in the US through third party companies for some time, but he urged the board to expand and have American offices. This allowed him to permanently transfer here and eventually take Odin with him after he came to a point where he no longer recognized me although he did faintly remember Hela and Thor. Perhaps that should have been a clue for me.”</p>
<p>        “You still resent him?”</p>
<p>        “Odin? Certainly. It infuriates me that I can never confront him about any of this. All those years of trying and failing to measure up, wasted. Perhaps he loved me, I dare say in his own way maybe he did, but he never once told me so and what good is implied love?”</p>
<p>
  <em>        What indeed.</em>
</p>
<p>        I shifted on the couch so that my hand could find his and squeezed it momentarily. In response he lifted it and kissed the tips of my fingers lightly.</p>
<p>        “Do you resent me for implying, but not outright saying it?” I asked.</p>
<p>        “No. For one thing your situation was quite different - do not think I ever forgot the fact that you were not in the position to freely act on your feelings. And in the end we cleared it all up. In fact, that is why I came over here originally. The way we left things was unfinished and unacceptable to me, I hated the idea of yet more unfinished business in my life. It ate away at me. In my mind there was always a very good chance that we would just have a good shout at each other in the lobby and I would return to my hotel in a few hours. It would not have been a particularly happy or neat ending, but at least it would be an ending.”</p>
<p>        “But you’re happy with the way your evening went?”</p>
<p>        “I am at a loss as to how it could have gone better," he laughed.</p>
<p>        “My open-minded, sexy, professor and part-time gymnast roommate could have been home?” I teased.</p>
<p>        “Three people would not fit on that bed,” Loki pointed out.</p>
<p>        “Well, not with that attitude!”</p>
<p>        “Hmm … well I suppose I could suspend one of you from the ceiling,” his voice dropped half an octave and his hand slipped around my neck ever so gently.</p>
<p>        “Oooh, dibs on that!” I murmured as I shivered under his touch.</p>
<p>        “Oh darling,” he smiled and pressed a kiss to my temple, “and to think we could have passed each other like ships in the night.”</p>
<p>        We kissed, lightly and tenderly and before I knew it I was on top of him but rather than keep kissing him I nuzzled against his neck. “Mmm, I don’t know if I have it in me for round three,” I admitted.</p>
<p>        “Truth be told, me neither,” he replied, “perhaps a rough tup in the morning?”</p>
<p>        “But I don’t wanna go to bed,” I whined.</p>
<p>        “It’s well after midnight and you had a long day and so have I.” he said gently and then laughed at himself, "and since when am I the voice of reason?"</p>
<p>        “Oh very well” I capitulated and climbed off of him.</p>
<p>         Eventually we curled up together beneath the wrinkled and not especially clean sheets and blankets and didn't care. Loki pulled me close to his chest and I could feel his warmth and the gentle rhythm of his heart. My hand slipped under his t-shirt where, just over his rib cage, was a long messy scar. My hands traced it, in part to see how it healed and in part because I was always terrifically tempted to do so and now I could. His head had rested on the crown of my head. Sleep was overtaking me and made a jumble of all the thoughts in my head - there was still so much that was uncertain, so much we have not discussed ....</p>
<p>        "Mmm Loki?" I mumbled half asleep.</p>
<p>        "Yes?"</p>
<p>        "So is this going to be monogamous or what?"</p>
<p>        He stilled against me for a second,</p>
<p>        "What made you ask?"</p>
<p>        "Well it's going to be long-distance innit?" I yawned, "and you'll probably miss dick, which I get, but like, if you're gonna see other people either you need to start get tested a lot more or we got to start using condoms or something I dunno..."</p>
<p>        "You're remarkable," he said with a laugh and kissed the top of my head. "Perhaps we should keep it just us, for now."</p>
<p>        "Mmm, probably a good idea," I was really well asleep at this point, "Night Loki."</p>
<p>        “Good night Della,” he replied and his fingers scratched at my tummy playfully.</p>
<p>        I went to sleep purring like a cat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The names of Loki's bio parents come from Norse mythology:<br/>Loki's mother in the myths was actually named "Laufey", she was also called "Nal" which means "needle" suggesting she was perhaps tall and thin, thus Faye Nal. Loki's father was a giant named Farbauti and so "F.R Bauti Laufeyson". </p>
<p>For whatever reason they reversed it in the Marvel comics so that Laufey is his dad and Farbauti is his mom, not sure why.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. The prince and the fox.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        I was terribly happy when I woke up and for a few moments I couldn’t remember why. It was though I had dreamed a thousand good dreams all at once. Then an awful thought struck me - I didn't feel anyone next to me - and for a moment I thought that I had dreamed everything. That Loki had never came to my apartment, that he never came to New York, that we didn’t admit our love for each other, that we didn’t make mad, frenzied love to each other and then stayed up half the night talking.</p><p>        For that one terrible moment I thought I was alone again and that fear was so real and so palpable I shot up in my bed like a spring and took in my surroundings.</p><p>        It was around dawn. Loki was sitting up, his back was against the headboard and he was reading<em> Le Petit Prince</em>, which I had left on the night stand a few days ago. In my sleep I must have scooted away from him and now he looked up from the book and answered my panicked look with a slightly bewildered one.</p><p>        "Did you have a nightmare?” he asked.</p><p>        “I ... yea, I sort of did,” I sighed. He reached out to me and scooted closer and I curled up against his side. “Sorry, have you long have you been up?”</p><p>        "Just over an hour,” Loki admitted. “I’m still quite jet lagged it seems.”</p><p>        “What time is it?”</p><p>        “Half past six or so."</p><p>        “Oh, I slept in,” I mumbled as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Why are you reading in the dark?”</p><p>        “It's not so dark, and I didn’t want to wake you by turning on the light or looking at my phone,” he shrugged.</p><p>        Loki's delicate long fingers were still holding the book, his index finger was holding the space towards the end where he stopped reading. There were still slight burn marks on his pale skin, from the thumb down to the wrist - scars from the deployed airbag.</p><p>        “Do you know this story?” I asked, my voice somehow a whisper.</p><p>        “I read it a long time ago, when I was a child” he slipped the book back on the nightstand.</p><p>        His other arm slipped around me and as we lay on the bed holding one another I pulled the blankets over us. In the dark, when I could no longer see his face, but only feel the soft warmth of his body against mine, I asked:</p><p>        “How much time do we have?”</p><p>        “There is a meeting at the hotel at noon and a brief before that, so need to be back by 11am at the latest. There is also a dinner with the representative of one of the companies we are looking to merge with tonight. It might go late, I don’t quite know, American businessmen are chatty. I can text you and let you know how it goes. But Sunday is less busy, we might have the afternoon to ourselves.”</p><p>        “Okay, but like, how much time to we have?” I said somberly, “you obviously can’t keep taking the company jet to the US every weekend just to hang out and screw. And you’re busy with work, this is a very difficult time for you guys. Keeping a company afloat in this economy and in this political sewer pile of a time?”</p><p>        Loki's lips found mine in the dark, "my very dearest," he whispered, "are you having second thoughts?”</p><p>        “No," I said firmly, "but I am wondering how much time together we will really have?”</p><p>        His hands pulled me closer.</p><p>        “Not a lot at the moment,” he conceded. “With the company expanding into the US I may find myself with more opportunities to travel here, although it would also mean it will be for work, so I would be busy much of that time. How does your work look like for the next little while?”</p><p>        “My placement in New York is until the end of March, the patient will probably extend the contract for another month or so. He’s not doing too bad, but he’s not at 100% yet. After that, who knows? The company usually lines something up for me with a bit of a break in between, but it’s hard to predict where and when I will go next.”</p><p>        He rolled me over until I was beneath him, the blanket slipped off, allowing me to see more of his features.</p><p>        “It does appear then, that the time we have together is somewhat limited and perhaps it would be best to use it more … constructively.”</p><p>        His hips ground against mine, my legs slipped around his waist and my fingers found their way under the baggy t-shirt he was still wearing. I traced the hard muscle of his abs and chest and shoulders before pulling it off entirely.  </p><p>        “We’re not done talking about this,” I moaned before my mouth became otherwise occupied.</p><p>        “Certainly not,” agreed Loki, his voice a hoarse whisper. “We can return to this topic over breakfast, until then …”</p><p>        His teeth nipped at the skin just where the neck met the shoulder and my hips jerked towards him instinctively.</p><p>        All things that were not this were immediately forgotten.</p><p>        I let him take me, I let him fuck me slowly and deeply with my hands grasping the railings of the headboard. His fingers traveled deliciously up and down my body and his caresses were tender and loving. Warm, sweet, ever-increasing bliss flooded my senses and I let it overtake me in waves. Then, when his own release neared, Loki’s hands pinned mine on either side of my head and he caressed me with his mouth, keeping me trapped between his hard lean body and the mattress, barely letting me writhe in marvelous, excruciating ecstasy.</p><p>        And when he was worn out and ready to come I slipped from his grasp, mounted him and drew things out for another twenty minutes more and he laughed beneath me drunkenly and let me. He let me edge him and play with him, kiss his healed skin, nuzzle against his lovely jawline and bite the tips of his long fingers and any other silly thing that came to my mind.</p><p>        Eventually we fucked each other to exhausted completion and collapsed together in a heap.</p><p>        “One day we’ll have a bad one of these,” I sighed after a time as we lay together and stared at the reflecting sun rays slowly climbing across the ceiling. One set of our hands were still clasped tightly, with the other I ran my fingers through his hair.</p><p>        “Mmm, one day perhaps, but clearly not today,” smiled Loki in return.</p><p>        “We can’t stay in,” I said. “Just so you know, there is nothing in the fridge except some mineral water, sour cream and very questionable cilantro.”</p><p>        “Dearest darling, are you sure you’re earning enough to keep body and soul together?”</p><p>        “Shush! I always go grocery shopping on Fridays, but some guy came around and distracted me yesterday with marvelous dick and professions of love.”</p><p>        “I believe the order was, in fact, the other way around,” Loki pointed out pedantically. “I don’t know anything about this city, what shall we do for breakfast?”</p><p>        “Do you want greasy hangover food or hipster vegetarian brunch?”</p><p>        One fantastically long eyebrow arched, “how greasy?”</p><p>        “If you get the hashbrowns you'll see though the plates by the end of the meal. And, before you ask, the tea in both places is not going to be to your liking.”</p><p>        “I very much assumed so, whichever place has the best coffee then?”</p><p>        “Hipster brunch place it is,” I said. “They have the kind of espresso that can wake the dead and I definitely will need some this morning. Post coital lethargy is about to set in.”</p><p>        I sat up, yawned and stretched. Loki’s eyes remained on me – calm, amused and appreciative. Resting my elbows on my knees I looked back at him and it still seemed so unbelievable to me that he was in my bed at all. He lifted his hand and traced feather-light patterns along my naked back making me shiver.</p><p>        “I can make sure it does not,” he smiled.</p><p>        “I bet you can,” I laughed, “but we still need to take a shower.”</p><p>        “Mind if I join you then?”</p><p>        “That’s a very counter-productive offer, but how can I resist?”</p><p>        “Do you want me to promise that I’ll behave?”</p><p>        “Nah,” I giggled, “in for a penny, in for a pound, I say”</p><p>        “You want a good pound? I can pound,” grinned Loki as he sat up.</p><p>        “Christ, that was terrible!” I snorted as I got out of bed, put on my now very ruined and wrinkly robe on and rummaged around to find some spare bathroom towels.</p><p>        “Brain and penis typically needs 30 mins to reboot,” reminded me Loki.</p><p>        “Well, we might as well actually shower then.”</p><p>        We mostly did.</p><p>        Mostly.</p><p>        When a naked sexy man stands before you, water running down his shoulders and in rivulets cascades along the pectorals and abs to all sorts of other lovely places how can one be expected to keep their mind on the task at hand? I rather suspect Loki was placed in a similar predicament, but he had a harder time of it.</p><p>        It’s only on <em>Friends</em> that New York apartment bathrooms are large enough for two people can take baths together. The ceiling in my shower stall was just all right for five-foot-nine me, but Loki was over well over six feet tall. His head barely avoided scraping the ceiling and there was not much room but we just about managed. When the water was finally turned off and I walked out of the stall into the bathroom Loki waited until I dried off and then slipped his hands underneath my arms, picked me up and plopped me down on the small counter by the sink.</p><p>        “What are you doing?” I shrieked, gripping his shoulders for balance.</p><p>        “One for the road,” he whispered into my ear before biting on the earlobe.</p><p>        His lips then went down in a long, slow, hot path to my neck, then chest, between my breasts, all the way to the navel and then further still. He maneuvered my legs so that they ended up on his shoulders and my hands gripped him by his hair as his tongue danced around my clit. I threw my head back and leaned on the mirror behind me and shut my eyes. For a few moments I thought about practical things like, whether or not the crappy particle board that the sink was held up by would hold, but his tongue, his devious, devious tongue made me forget all that. So what if the sink collapses underneath me? So what if the neighbors hear? So what if everything is uncertain?</p><p>        So what? So what? So what?</p><p>        This brilliant ecstasy, this love I had for him and he for me, this feeling of belonging to someone utterly and wholly, was it not completely worth it?</p><p>        “Yes,” I moaned, “yes, yes, please again, yes,” and pulled him closer and closer as I reached my climax.</p><p>        Afterwards, when I made it out of the bathroom and collapsed on my couch with wobbly knees, I watched Loki as he dressed in yesterday’s clothes through half lidded eyes. When he was done putting on his shirt and dress pants he looked at the discarded tie in contemplation and ended up just stowing it away in his messenger bag instead. I approved, if only because the slightly undone shirt allowed for a delightful peek of the collarbone. When he was done Loki came up to the couch on which I lay, still with only a towel on and his hands with their long fingers wrapped around each of my calves and pulled slightly.</p><p>        “I’m dozing here,” I grumbled.</p><p>        “So I see, but as delightful as the current display is, it is after 8am and we need to get going.” His fingers traveled up and down my calves sending light shivers up my legs.</p><p>        “Who's the realist now?” I sighed, as I got to my feet and headed for the bedroom to change. Loki leaned against my desk and openly watched as I stripped the towel off and shimmied into a fresh set of panties and then jeans.</p><p>        “Are you just going to watch me?” I laughed</p><p>        “Do you object?”</p><p>        “No, I suppose I’m just not used to it,” I said as I closed the bra clasp behind my back and pulled the straps over my shoulders. After putting on a random sweater I went to the desk for a brush and a hair tie.</p><p>        “Leave it down, please,” said Loki quietly, “I so rarely got to see it down.”</p><p>        His fingers reached out and curled around a stray lock of my hair and pulled on it lightly and affectionately and for some stupid reason I blushed. We stood like that for a moment, very close together and then I leaned my forehead on his shoulder and my hair spilled forward.</p><p>        “Your shirt is wrinkly,” I said, also quietly. “I can iron it if you want.”</p><p>        “No need to bother," he shrugged.</p><p>        “At breakfast you and I will absolutely look like a couple that hooked up last night,” I smiled. </p><p>        "I rather like that."</p><p>        “And what will all your board of directors think? What if they run into you while you’re doing the walk of shame down the hotel hallway?”</p><p>        “Since there is every chance at least one or two of them will spent the night in a highly exclusive and expensive sex club in Manhattan, no one would likely care that I went out on the pull by myself. Given my reputation and the fact that they think me single perhaps they will assume I got an escort.”</p><p>         “Ah yes, one of those kind hearted hookers, who let you stay the night,” I snorted. </p><p>         "Actually, many high-class escorts offer something called The Girlfriend Experience, which in part is meant to fabricate a night of intimacy rather than a single carnal tryst.”</p><p>         "I’m dying to find out how you know this,” I teased.</p><p>         “Read it in a book once.”</p><p>         “Oh, sure, sure ...”</p><p>         “As it happens I actually did,” he said with a roll of his eyes, "there was a series of ..."</p><p>         “I'm only kidding, I believe you.” I interrupted him, rose to the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek, “I don’t actually think you’d lie to me about something so silly.”</p><p>         “Do you think I would lie to you about anything?” His eyes watched me carefully.</p><p>         I thought about it for a moment.</p><p>         “I think you are very capable of lying to me," I said finally, "but I also trust you not to. There is nothing about you that I would rather not know and I think that you by now know the cost of a prolonged lie.”</p><p>         Our eyes locked and Loki slowly nodded in ascent.</p><p>         “Acknowledged.”</p><p>         “Well then, we might as well get going,” I said, in a lighter tone. “I’m starting to really feel hungry.”</p><p>         As we collected our things Loki looked around.</p><p>         “I think I shall miss this place after this trip is over and I get back to the UK,” he said as he put on his coat. “It really grows on you, though not literally, obviously.”</p><p>         “Yes well, there are only so many wrought iron staircases in the world, I guess my lot in life is to live in an apartment without one,” I sniped as I threw the keys and my cellphone into my purse and put on my boots.</p><p>         As I put on my jacket on and shook out my hair I looked up at Loki and asked, “what do you think? Can we really keep this going?”</p><p>         “At the very least I think we should definitely try.”</p><p>         “So what about this," I gestured to my frankly disastrously messy place, "makes you so sure this is real enough to warrant so much effort?”</p><p>         Loki smiled at my statement enigmatically, reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a small tube of Chapstick.</p><p>         I knew it.</p><p>         I knew it because it was mine. It was the same tube of Chapstick I chucked at him six months ago while sitting in a car outside a private airport on our way to London.</p><p>         “How do you still have that?” I wondered.</p><p>         “I put it in the pocket of my leather jacket and there it stayed. I didn’t wear that jacket again until I got back to England and unpacked my things. After I discovered it …” he shrugged, “I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. Not after everything that has happened. I would not have thought myself capable of such blatant sentimentality. That was when I knew."</p><p>         He smiled the most disarming, rueful, self-aware little smile.</p><p>         "All in all, I’m not a terribly nice person you know," he said, "I’m not terribly polite, I don’t particularly like people, even perfectly nice people. But I liked you from the start, even though it was long before I loved you and I hated you for much of the same time. I know it makes no sense and it caught me off guard because you are in many ways precisely the type of person I should roundly despise. And yet we have just the right amount of differences and commonalities to make this union interesting and worth trying to keep. I know what you are trying to ask me and yes, I know it might not work out, but at this point what have we to lose by trying?”</p><p>        “Both you and Thor are such romantics,” I joked trying to hide very much the real extent to which his proclamation touched me.</p><p>        “No, both Thor and I know a good thing when we see it," smiled Loki, "only our definitions of 'a good thing' are wildly different.”</p><p>        I reached to open the front door, but with my hand on the handle I turned towards Loki and said,</p><p>        "If this works out long enough for us to live together, wherever and for however long that may be, I will get a framed quote by de Saint-Exupéry and hang it above our bed. Do you know what that quote will be?”</p><p>        “<em>You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed?</em>” quoted Loki gravely.</p><p>        “No," I said and quoted back. "<em>It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.</em>”</p><p>        “Yes,” agreed Loki and leaned forward to kissed me lightly on the lips. “I agree, that is a much better one.”</p><p>        And together we left my apartment, walked down the stairs and out into the bracing, morning spring air.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Loki and Della will return ...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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